Profitable Ventures
by SilverRosesBleedGold
Summary: A new beginning for Harry with Sirius may be all that he needs to grow into the rebellious and humorous teen he should have been. Without Dumbledore, Harry is free to become a powerful wizard and business man with rocketing profits and teenage adventures. Harry Potter is ready, after a summer of fun, sun and freedom, to face the Triwizard Tournament with a whole new perspective.
1. Steady Revelations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Warning: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, wealthy Harry, super Harry, goblin intervention, time interference, mature Harry, mature language, mature subject content.**

**Time Period: Current, being 2012, moving into 2013. **

**Hogwarts Year: Third year**

**Chapter Notes: This is the very first chapter and features the beginnings of a close relationship between Sirius and Harry. Harry will not be a child, nor will Sirius adopt him and give him the father he never had. If you don't like something about personalities and character portrayal, move on. This is not the story for you and I am not interested in hearing complaints of any sort. **

…

The Azkaban escapee patted the haunches of the Hippogriff by his side. Hermione, standing on the opposite side of the corridor, was silently keeping watch on both Harry and Sirius and on the adjoining corridor.

"I was thinking, Harry, that maybe you'd like to live with me?" Sirius asked nervously, running a hand through his greasy and matted hair. "Once this is all cleared up? I mean, only if you want to, that is. You don't have to, if you don't want to. Maybe you could just visit every-"

"Sirius!" Harry cut the rambling man off in an uncharacteristic display of a forceful personality. "I would love to live with you."

"Really?" Sirius asked incredulously, eyes wide.

"Well, yes. I mean," Harry began, suddenly insecure. "If you're serious."

"I'm always Sirius, Harry," The marauder said with a roughish grin, temporarily lighting up his Azkaban worn features.

Harry's face scrunched up before he wrinkled his nose distastefully at the joke. "I have a feeling that's been over used."

Sirius gave him a sideways look, assessing him. He snorted. "Give me a break, kid. Just like your mother, so critical. You think it's easy to be this perfect?"

Harry sniffed the air around him, wrinkling his nose at Sirius' smell.

"Well, I guess my standards of perfection must be a little high…"

Sirius flipped him the bird.

"Do me a favor, kid," Sirius said. "The Headmaster is going to ask you about our little visit. Don't tell him you're going to live with me. Mention it if you want, but if he says no just let him twinkle you into submission."

"But-"

"No," Sirius interrupted. "I'll need the rest of the term to get everything ready for us. Your parents should have left some proof of my innocence. I should have a trial by the first week of summer. At that point, I'll swoop in and take you from…" He trailed off, waiting for Harry to tell him where he lived.

"I live with Aunt Petunia." Harry said quietly.

"Petunia!" Sirius exclaimed, outrage clear on his face. "Lily's magic hating, muggle scum sister Petunia?"

"That would be the one." Harry agreed.

"Why that dirty bastard!" Sirius, said loudly, spiting with rage. "I know your parents wills had a whole scroll of people for you to go to! They would have sent you to the Malfoys before they gave you to her!"

"Really?" Harry asked, eyes widening.

"Shh!" Hermione hissed from down the corridor.

"You're friend's right Harry," Sirius said, looking to the stars. "I need to be going. In a few days, I'll send you a mirror. Just say my name, and we can talk to each other face to face."

"Where will you go?" Harry inquired curiously.

"Somewhere safe," Sirius said simply, leaving it at that.

After a quick, manly hug between Harry and Sirius, the escapee jumped onto the back of the hippogriff. With a quick smack on the rump from Harry, Buckbeak took off into the night sky, silhouette clear against the full moon and whoops of joy echoing through the air.

…

A few days later, Harry did receive the mail. Thankfully, he received it in the dorm and not in the Great Hall; else he would have had to tell Hermione and Ron.

Something wasn't sitting right about those two with him.

They just wouldn't leave him alone. One of them was always by his side, even when he went to the loo. That gave him his own suspicious about Ron, but he wasn't willing to make any bets.

Then, the other day, he saw their names sneaking off to meet Dumbledore, alone, in his office. They didn't tell him about it, which led him to believe it was meant to be a secret.

Harry talked to Sirius for a few hours each night before he went to bed.

They normally talked about mundane topics, such as a school, before moving on to talks about the future and the past.

For some reason, the present didn't seem all that important to Harry because he had something to look forward to during the summer for the first time ever.

He told him about Ron and Hermione, leading Sirius to ask him how he had met the Weasleys.

"Why?" Harry asked, wondering why it matters.

"Well, Harry," Sirius said carefully, knowing of Harry's sensitivity to the subject. "The Weasley are a great family, really and truly. It's the Prewetts I'd be worried about."

"The Prewetts?" Harry asked.

"Molly Prewett," Sirius said. "Mrs. Weasleys family."

"What's wrong with them?" Harry asked, puzzled. Mrs. Weasley had always seemed perfectly nice to him.

"Nothing's wrong with them, per say," Sirius said. "They used to be a very rich but moderately dark family. They acquired their money through the commercialization of human bodies,"

"But the Weasleys don't have a lot of money." Harry said. "And I've definitely never seen them with prostitutes."

"The Prewetts don't either, nowadays. When Gideon and Fabian were born, they were still a rich family. A few years later, when Molly was a small child, the war against Grindelwald started and the Prewett money went into the cause. Then Voldemort came along and Gideon and Fabian, the only good Prewetts, funneled more money into that cause. In a few short years, they were destitute. Molly had married Arthur at the beginning of Voldemorts rise, knowing she was destitute and would make no money."

"So why did she marry Arthur?"

"She loves him," Sirius said. "I'm not denying that. But it's likely that she's looking for ways to gather more wealth."

"You really think so?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, I'm quite positive. She tried going after my brother, and then me. Your dad as well, but we were first years and she was a sixth year. It was rather scary, but we knew she wanted money. She gave up on marrying money after that and turned to Arthur."

"But what does that have to do with Ron and Hermione?"

"How did you meet Hermione?" Sirius replied.

"On the train." Harry told him, slightly annoyed at having his question answered with a question.

"And how did you become her friend?"

"I saved her from a troll." Harry said.

"And you think the wards didn't tell Dumbledore that there was a bloody troll in his school? Or that it was headed right towards a helpless first year?"

Harry didn't say anything.

"Dumbledore knew exactly what happened. And I'm sure Hermione will listen to anything the man says to do, be it spy on you or push you down three flights of stairs."

Harry paused, his eyes widening in realization.

"I met Ron and his family at the train station." Harry said. "On the muggle side. Mrs. Weasley was shouting for the platform number. But she has six kids, four of which have already been to Hogwarts, two of which for at least eight years between them."

"See what I mean?" Sirius asked.

"So they were there for me?" Harry asked.

"To lure you in, I'm sure." Sirius said. "But I could be wrong about Hermione. You just need to watch and see."

"I don't think so." Harry said. "She always just tags along, bemoaning it all the way but never actually reaching out to stop anything. And I could definitely see her reporting to Dumbledore."

"Harry, there may be a few more things about Dumbledore you need to know." Sirius said, taking a deep breath. "I talked to the goblins at Gringotts and they told me something interesting. Dumbledore's been trying to take control of your finances. All he needs is your signature. He has your blood. Have you signed anything for him or anyone else recently?"

"No, not that I know of." Harry said. "Homework doesn't count, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. You haven't given out autographs, either?"

Harry gave his godfather a glare.

"Right, didn't think so. Make sure you don't give your signature to anyone, alright?"

"Alright." Harry said. "But my vault is okay?"

"Your vaults are, yes."

"I have more than one?" Harry asked, surprise flitting across his face.

"Of course," Sirius said, surprised. "You have millions of galleons. The Potters were very well off and your mother was a well-established potions mistress. You're still making money off of some of her admissions."

"Really?" Harry asked. "I never knew she was so good."

"She was," Sirius said. "I'm sure some of her journals are in your vaults. Once I'm cleared, I plan on emancipating you so you can access them. But before that happens, there's something else we need to discuss."

"Which is?"

"Marriage contracts."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, jaw dropping.  
"Since your parents died, Dumbledore's been trying to finalize one between you and Ginny. It has Molly's signature and Dumbledore's. It isn't going through because he's not your magical guardian, but it's very strong and laced with compulsion charms. I've had every copy, all twelve the goblins have received, destroyed and burned."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Harry cursed, anger burning through his veins.

"No, and that's not all, either. I've gotten my hands on your parents will, which was sealed until the Lord of an Ancient and Noble House demanded to see it. You're parents appointed me as guardian. They had no trust in Dumbledore. They also left letter to the public, the minister, and the head of the DMLE."

"So now everyone knows you're innocent?" Harry asked eagerly.

"The letters have been sent to every relevant person in the ministry as well as to the Wizarding Wireless and the Daily Prophet. I've also sent copies to every member of the Wizengamont and the Quibbler."

"Wow." Harry said. "Think it'll work?"

"It will," Sirius said, smiling. "James demanded it as Lord Potter before he died. Dead or not, magic like that has weight."

"So when will you be free?"

"I've already gotten my pardon." Sirius said with a bright grin.

"Really?" Harry asked, excitement mounting. "With no trial? How is that possible?"

"Don't need one. However, I do need you to be emancipated as soon as possible."

"Why?" Harry inquired. A lordship represented a great deal of responsibility.

"Innocent or not, I have been in Azkaban for twelve years. That makes me unfit to be Lord Black. Lucius Malfoy will see my pardon in tomorrow's paper and will attempt to claim the Black title for his son. His wife, after all, is my cousin."

"I can see how that would be a problem." Harry said.

"Exactly." Sirius said. "That's why I need you to meet me at the Hogsmeade train platform tomorrow morning."

"So I'm not getting on the train?" Harry asked to clarify.

"No, you're not," Sirius agreed. "From there we'll go straight to Gringotts. I suspect they have an offer you may be interested in."

Despite Harry's prodding, Sirius wouldn't reveal just what that offer was. They closed their talk with a few practical joke ideas and Harry drifted off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that tomorrow would be a better day.

…

**I've combed through it a few times, so hopefully I've caught most of the mistakes. Feel free to let me know if you find anymore in a review.**


	2. Offerings of Lordship

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Warning: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, wealthy Harry, super Harry, goblin intervention, time interference, mature Harry, mature language, mature subject content.**

**Time Period: Current, being 2012, moving into 2013. **

**Hogwarts Year: Third year**

**Chapter Notes: In the second chapter, Harry will find himself socializing with goblins. I am not interested in hearing about how cliché it is. If you do not like the cliché, leave. This isn't the story for you and I don't want to hear bitching. **

…

Harry awoke the next morning, trunk packed and anticipation building. He dutifully went to breakfast with Hermione and Ron as Hermione harped about over the break homework and behaving with the Dursleys.

Right then and there, Harry decided not to tell the two people who were supposed to be his best friends about his plans to skip the Hogwarts express. He was positive that it wouldn't have blown over well.

He did well at portraying a shocked look as Hermione shoved the Prophet in his face. For the first time, Harry read Sirius Black's official pardon with barely contained glee.

"That's great news!" Harry said to the two. They shared a 'covert' look before Hermione turned to Harry.

"He might not be entirely stable Harry," Hermione said in what was a vaguely discouraging tone. "He did spend twelve years in Azkaban."

"I know, Hermione," Harry said. "But it's not like I'm living with him, I have to live with the Dursleys. But he knew my parents!"

"Yeah, Mione," Ron said, trying to be mock supportive of Harry but missing the point entirely. "Think of all the pranks he could teach Harry."

"Ronald Weasley, the twins have suitably filled the prankster roles, so you two boys had better not be getting any ideas." She scolded.

"Yes, Hermione," Ron said.

Harry just nodded, wondering how she could think she was his mother. He was actually thinking about all of the things Sirius had been and could be teaching Harry about both of his parents and he knew his mother wasn't like her.

Sure, Lily was bossy, but she was also a real woman with intelligent thoughts all own.

Hermione was just a bossy know it all. And she never let him think about things, she just tried to force it all out of him. She also thought she was better than everyone else.

Well, he'd show her. Just wait until he got back from summer break. Fun with Sirius be damned, Harry would study up a storm before he let Hermione get the best of him for four years in a row.

After tuning Hermione and Ron's bickering out for a decent forty-five minutes, the students of Hogwarts began heading out of the doors and down to the carriages.

"Looking forward to the break, mate?" Seamus, who managed to jump into the carriage with Ron, Hermione and Harry at the last minute, asked.

"Absolutely." Harry asked, a true grin showing on his face. "Should be the best one yet."

Hermione and Ron shared a sideways worried glance. What was Harry talking about?

"Big plans, eh Potter?" Seamus asked.

"I'm thinking so. You?"

"I'm headed for Ireland, mate," Seamus said. "With my cousins, free of me mum."

"Sounds like there might be a few drinking games in your future." Harry said with a laugh.

"With the luck o' the Irish," Seamus said with a particularly thick accent.

"We might have to meet up," Harry said with a grin.

"You're headed to Ireland?" Seamus asked. Hermione and Ron were busy gaping.

"With my newly pardoned godfather." Harry agreed.

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione yelled, puffing up with anger.

"Shut the fuck up, Granger," Harry said coldly. "You're not my mother and it's too late to go running off to Dumbledore. He's not my guardian anyway, so shut the fuck up you stupid little bitch."

"Holy shit, Potter," Seamus said, incredulous. "You've got balls bigger than I thought."

"Well, I'm tired of her acting like my dead mother. Do you really think I don't know about your late night meetings with Dumbledore?"

Hermione and Ron were struck speechless, shocked by Harry's outburst and his knowledge.

By he time they set about to regaining their wits, Harry had already jumped out of the carriage, Seamus in tow.

"Want to meet my Godfather?" Harry asked the Irish boy.

"Do I want to meet an escaped convict?" Seamus said thoughtfully. "You bloody well bet I do, mate!"

Harry grinned, dragging Seamus into the crowd, away from the slowly disembarking Ron and Hermione. He spotted Sirius in a darker corner of the platform, his face buried in a newspaper. He was obviously trying to avoid detection, and, oddly enough, succeeding. Based off of the intelligence of the common witch or wizard, it really wasn't all that surprising.

"Hey, Paddy," Harry said. "Meet my friend, Seamus."

"Hey there, cub," Sirius said, smiling happily and pulling Harry in for a tight hug, ruffling his hair. "Nice to meet you as well, Seamus."

"An honor, Mr. Black," Seamus said with a grin, exuberantly shaking his hand.

"Sirius, please," Sirius said. "I'm sad to say that Harry and I must be going, and quickly at that."

"Indeed," Harry agreed, watching as Ron and Hermione pushed their way through the crowd. "Well, we're going to visit Seamus in Ireland this summer, right, Sirius?"

"Absolutely," Sirius agreed with a roguish grin. "Those Irish women!"

Seamus laughed, giving Harry a friendly shoulder pat. "See you then, Potter,"

Harry and Sirius smiled and waved as Sirius apparated away. Hermione reached out and grabbed the air where Harry's robes had been only seconds before.

Her screech was heard along the entire platform.

…

Harry and Sirius appeared on the steps of Gringotts. Harry was coughing, hunched over and trying very hard not to throw up his breakfast.

"Should've warned you," Sirius said thoughtfully. "Too late now though."

"Really?" Harry gasped. "I mean honestly, what kind of person does that?"

"One in a hurry." Sirius answered, tugging Harry, still gasping, through the doors of Gringotts.

Bypassing the tellers entirely, Sirius led Harry to a long corridor, down many twists and turns and to a large ornate door.

Sirius knocked incessantly on the door, stopping only when Harry stomped on his toe with considerable force.

"Asshole." Harry grumbled under his breath.

"Why I am affronted!" Sirius said belligerently. "Insulted! Offended! Why I should- I should- I should excommunicate you!"

"So you're the pope now too?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Shh," Sirius yelped, shoving Harry through the now open door. "No one can know!"

"Mr. Black," The goblin standing by the door said sharply. "You know as well as I that should I allow this charade to continue, it will never come to an end."

"Yes, you're probably right." Harry agreed, shoving his unruly godfather into the chair, taking a seat in the one next to it.

"My name is Harry Potter," Harry introduced, reaching over to shake the goblins hand. "It's nice to meet you, thank you for meeting with us today."

The goblin slowly shook Harry's hand, eyebrow raised at the common courtesy.

"No, no, no, Harry," Sirius said, shaking his head exasperatedly. "You're doing it all wrong. When speaking to a goblin, you must first call them dwarves, spit in their eye, and bite their ears."

"Where do you get this stuff?" Harry asked. "And if that's true, I'd like to see you do it. Go on, he's right there."

Sirius stared at the goblin for a moment before sinking back into his chair.

"I thought so." Harry said, crossing his arms. "Now, I'm sorry for the interruption. He's a little off."

"So I know," The goblin agreed. "I am Ragnok. Am I to understand that you are here to be emancipated?"

"It would seem to be so." Harry agreed.

"Well, your guardian," He used the word carefully. "Has taken the liberty to fill out all of the paperwork in advance."

"Have you looked it over?" Harry asked, glancing over suspiciously at Sirius, who was mumbling to himself.

"I have," Ragnok agreed with a smirk.

"Good," Harry said with a relieved sigh. "Where's the quill?"

The goblin handed Harry the papers and the quill. Harry glanced over it curiously, but it all seemed to be legal jargon.

"So there's no questions or anything?" Harry asked, curious.

"You're the last heir to the Potter line. That alone grants you emancipation rights."

"Easy enough." Harry agreed. With a flourish, Harry signed his name in three different places.

"So…it's done?" Harry asked.

"Yes, it is," Ragnok agreed. "Copies have already been filed in the ministry."

"So…that's it?" Harry asked.

"Yes, that's it." Ragnok agreed with a nod.

"So I can just do some magic now, scot-free?"

"Now you're getting it," Ragnok agreed.

"Sirius." Harry said, poking his sleeping godfather in the cheek. He got a louder snore. "Sirius." The man smacked his hand away, snoring louder.

Ragnok and Harry stared at each other.

"Well… is there anymore paperwork?" Harry asked, looking at Sirius, disturbed.

"I assume you'd like to take control of the Potter finances?" Ragnok asked.

"That would be preferable." Harry agreed with a grin.

"Well, Mr. Black has prepared that paperwork as well, actually." Ragnok said. "And those of the Black family too."

"Well, let's sign them both them then." Harry said, picking up the quill again.

Ragnok slid a stack of parchments to him, leaving him to scan each page and sign on the required lines. Once Harry had completed the tedious paperwork, Ragnok slid two wooden boxes over to him, one a light oak and the other a dark cherry.

Within the oak box, there was a large gold ring with a deep red ruby on it. Engraved on the side was a lion, maw open in a roar.

Within the cherry box, there was a platinum ring with an onyx sitting in the center. The engraving on the side was of a cobra, hood flared.

"Each ring has some form of magical properties. The Potter ring helps to protect the mind and strengthen the magical channels. The Black ring also protects the mind and protects form most poisons. Once you put each one on, you will become Lord Potter Black." Ragnok told him, sliding the boxes closer to Harry.

Harry slid each ring on slowly, watching as they fitted to his fingers. A sense of warmth spread through his body, slowly pulsing away. He felt somewhat stronger, actually.

"That was the easy part of being a Lord," Ragnok said. "The hardest part is estate management."

"Oh dear." Harry said. "I have a feeling that might be difficult."

"Indeed," Ragnok said. "That, among other reasons, is why I'd like to extend an offer to you."

"Oh?" Harry said, eyebrow raised inquiringly.

"You are in an interesting position." Ragnok began. "As the Boy-Who-Lived, you are wanted for you fame, which, so far, you have managed pitifully. There are those who seek to harm you for the downfall of Voldemort and those who wish to use you to defeat him once more. As I'm sure you have guessed, he is, indeed, still in this realm."

"Your point is, sir?" Harry asked curiously.

"Now you are a Lord and many shall seek you out for monetary value and political power. We, the goblins, can each you the art of combat and the finer points of diplomacy and finance managing."

"And how do you plan on giving me these things?" Harry asked.

"Here, deep below the vaults, there is a time chamber of sorts. It will slow, if not completely stop, the movement of time. We are offering you its use as well as the use of a few of our masters. They will train you in wizard magic of all sorts, as well as estate management and public relations."

"At what cost?" Harry asked.

"A million galleons." Ragnok stated.

"And?"

"Is a million galleons too little?" Ragnok inquired.

"For the use of a goblin time chamber and goblin masters?" Harry paused. "Yes."

"There's another request," Ragnok agreed. "There's a little game, of sorts, taking place at Hogwarts next year. Should you be chosen for it, simply state, in front of at least twenty witnesses, that "I, Lord Harry James Potter Black, do hereby agree to participate in this Tournament as the representative of the goblins of Gringotts."

"That's oddly specific." Harry said. "Are there any winnings in this tournament?"

"Yes, there are," Ragnok agreed. "But you can keep them for all we care."  
"Fair enough. I like living enough to know that I will probably die an early death without some sort of help. Dumbledore's content to sit on his ass." Harry grumbled. "Where do I sign?"

Ragnok slammed a large stack of parchment onto the desk in front of him. Sirius jerked in his sleep, letting out a startled snore but not waking.

…

"Alright, all of that bloody paperwork has been signed." Harry said, massaging a kink out of his hand.

"Then we're ready to begin?" Ragnok asked, standing from his desk.

"I suppose so." Harry said resignedly. "Any plans for this lump?" Harry asked, nudging Sirius gently with his foot.

"Leave him there." Ragnok growled, glaring at the lump drooling on his guest chair. "You should be out in nine hours. Besides, I may have hit him with a calming spell."

"Really?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised. "A goblin calming spell? And how long will the training last?"

"However long you're in there for. Either way, nine hours."

"Why must you be so difficult?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"One of the mysteries in life." Ragnok revealed.

"I should have just bit your ear." Harry snarked.

"I bite back," Ragnok taunted with a scary grin.

"And then I wouldn't have an ear."

"Correct."

"Right, best avoid biting then," Harry agreed. "Scratching?"

Ragnok flicked his nails.

"Right." Harry acquiesced. "Hair pulling?"

"We should end this conversation here. Before things get weird."

"I think we passed that point." Harry pointed out.  
"Don't remind me." Ragnok growled. "Now, get in the cart and don't throw up."

…

The cart ride into the bowels of Gringotts was not what Harry expected. It was a straight drop down for at least forty-five seconds before the cart jerked over in a score of twists and turns and loops that prevented Harry from knowing left from up.

After what must have been at least seven minutes of intense speed and multiple terrifying drops, Harry and Ragnok stepped out of the cart, Harry sporting a wide grin.

"You actually enjoyed that?" Ragnok asked, shocked.

"Absolutely." Harry voiced exuberantly.

"There's something wrong with you."

"We discussed this."

"No we didn't."

"Yes we did."

"No we didn't."

"Potter, you're crazy."

"I've gotten that before."

"I wonder why."

"Haven't figured it out yet."

"Oh, the Master's are going to love you."

"As long as they remember that my eyes are up here."

"I don' even know what to say to that."

"Probably nothing."

"Fair enough, Potter." Ragnok said, arriving at a large set of rune inscribed doors, which he knocked on loudly. "Here's where I leave off."

"Well, thank you for the escort, good sir." Harry said with a theatrical bow. Late night talks with Sirius had corrupted him.

As Ragnok climbed back into the cart, the doors creaked open slowly and Harry stepped inside.

…

**Again, I've read through it a few times and done all that I can for it. If you spot any mistakes, let me know exactly where they are in a review and I'll make sure I fix it. **


	3. Ritualistic Needs

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Warning: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, wealthy Harry, super Harry, goblin intervention, time interference, mature Harry, mature language, mature subject content.**

**Time Period: Current, being 2012, moving into 2013. **

**Hogwarts Year: Third year**

**Chapter Notes: Harry may have been wronged by many wizards, but the goblins will find a way to fix and prevent it.**

…

Five goblins were standing in the doorway, blocking Harry's entrance into the rest of the room. They were each short and heavily scarred; their arms, legs and backs strapped with various weapons. Each one of them was wearing lightweight leather armor, molded perfectly to their bodies and completed by black dragon hide boots.

Overall, they were an intimidating lot, especially to Harry. Despite learning a few things from Sirius, he wasn't going to employ jokes and sly remarks in the face of these five goblins.

"Hello," Harry said, bowing at the waist. "My name's Harry Potter."

"I am Riptooth," The most heavily scarred goblin told him.

"And I am Goldrock," The shortest of them said.

"Slamback," The bulkiest of the goblins voiced gruffly.

"My name is Toughskin," Said the goblin with the most weapons.

"And I am Master Slayer," Finished the most intimidating goblin.

"An honor," Harry said. "I assume we are ready to begin?"

"Before time stops, we will have Mistress Bloodstar, our healer, check you over for any unhealed or magical wounds."

"Alright," Harry agreed.

Another goblin, this one distinctly feminine, entered the wide chamber, which Harry had previously ignored.

It was longer and wider than the great hall, with a few different blue matted areas.

In the corner opposite to the door, there was a large trunk stored in the corner by a desk area, and three large bunk beds across from it.

In between the desk area was a fireplace with a weapons rack above it and a fur rug. Two armchairs and a couch sat in front. Behind the chairs was a dining area, equipped with six chairs and metal cups and plates.

Bloodstar lead him back to the fireplace, making the couch longer and more bed shaped with no back.

"Please lie down," She asked.

Harry did as she asked, closing his eyes in preparation.

Her hands moved slowly over his body, poking and prodding him here and there. She stopped over his scar and gasped quietly.

She began speaking to the five goblins in a guttural language, sounding slightly harried.

Rapid-fire questions and answers were exchanged back and forth before she waved her hands around him a few more times.

Again, she seemed to tell the other goblins a few more things, to which they growled.

"Harry Potter," Slamback began. "You have been wronged by many a wizard."

"How so?" Harry asked, confused.

"There is dark soul in that scar," Goldrock revealed. "And many magic bindings."

"By all rights, you should not be able to perform magic by any means."

"And there is evidence of broken bones improperly set, as well as numerous scars and tissue damage." Toughskin told him.

While their tones revealed nothing, Harry did get the idea that it didn't matter to them either way. To them, he was probably little more than a possibly profitable business venture.

"What will be done?" Harry asked, concerned.

"The soul piece needs to go first," Bloodstar told him.

"Yes, I would say so," Harry agreed. "It's a little piece of Voldemort that I doubt I need. It's probably the cause for the pain I feel around him."

"Oh? You've encountered the Dark Lord?" Slayer asked.

"Twice, actually," Harry told him. "Once in my first year. He was disguised as Professor Quirrell and was going after the Philosopher's stone. In second year, he used a diary to control Ginny Weasley and release a basilisk to kill muggle borns. I killed it at the end of the year and stabbed the diary with the fang I pulled out of my arm."

"You killed a basilisk?" Slayer asked with a raised brow. "Of what size?"  
"Seventy to eighty feet, probably." Harry said thoughtfully.

Each one of the goblins in the room froze, staring at Harry in shock. Their jaws were actually hanging open. It was the most emotion Harry had seen them display.

"Seventy to eighty foot?" Goldrock asked for clarification.

"Yes," Harry continued. "I got stabbed with its fang when I shoved a sword up the roof of its mouth."

"But the hide is intact?" Slayer prodded.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "I mean, the eyes are gouged out, it's missing a fang and there's gaping hole through its brain, but other than that it was in perfect condition."

"And what did you do with it?" Bloodstar asked.

"I killed it…?"

"No, who claimed it? To whom were the pieces sold to?" Toughskin asked.

"Oh," Harry said. "No one. It's still there, I'd bet."

"Who else has access?" Slayer asked. "Who helped you kill it?"

"No one help me, other than the phoenix which healed me. And no one has access either. It's in the chamber of secrets, deep below Hogwarts and only a parseltongue can get in."

"Once you return to Hogwarts, you need to begin harvesting that. It's worth several million, if not a billion, galleons."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Slayer asked wryly.

"Not really," Harry asked.

"So I suppose the basilisk venom is the reason for the toxicity of your blood?" Bloodstar asked, studying magic only she could see. "By all counts, you should be long dead."

"Can't say that I'm disappointed I lived." Harry pointed out.

"Aside from the soul magic and basilisk venom as well as the improperly set bones and overall malnutrition, you are equipped with tracking charms, which I have already eliminated, compulsion charms, loyalty charms, and magic suppression spells."

Harry couldn't say anything.

"We'll need to postpone training and complete a few rituals." Slayer decided before anyone could say anything. "Set up a ritual circle in the center and let's prepare."

"Wait, wait," Harry said. "These charms, they do what?"

"They were all cast by Albus Dumbledore. Loyalty charms are aimed towards two people and one of those people's family."

"Ron and Hermione." Harry growled, magic rising in anger.

"The compulsion charms are aimed at inspiring trust in Albus Dumbledore and everything he says or does." Bloodstar informed him.

Harry breathed in deeply, unwilling to let his anger go in front of these goblins who, he assumed, he would be spending a lot of time with.

When he opened his eyes, Bloodstar was asking him to move into the center of a large pentagon shaped ritual area. His shirt was banished and he was pushed, albeit gently, into the middle.

"What will this ritual do?" Harry asked.

"Restore you to the condition you should be in based on magic levels." Goldrock informed him.

"You shouldn't even be able to perform magic with the amount of blocks." Toughskin told him. "That's why we'll be unbinding your magic slowly over time while you're training."

"What magic level should I be at?" Harry asked nervously.

"We can't tell at this point." Riptooth told him. "However, it is likely that you will be above the power level of Dumbledore and Voldemort."

"But that's, that's-" Harry couldn't form words.

"Over the course of your training we will be attempting to focus your magic into your magical channels, making them stronger. It will also imbue your entire body with your magic, making you more resistant to attack and less likely to die of blood loss." Bloodstar told him.

She was standing at the head of the pentagon, Slamback standing directly behind her.

"And what will that do?"

"Other than toughening your skin?" Slayer clarified, to which Harry nodded. "It will make your magic flow easier through your body so it is less noticeable when you cast. Essentially, it won't disturb ambient magic when you cast so much."

"It will make you a magic hotspot, essentially." Slamback said.

"It will draw people to you and will make you a better politician." Slayer told him seriously.

"Alright," Harry agreed, resigned.

He was going to learn to be more social, Merlin help him.

…

Guttural chants filled the room, a language unfamiliar to the boy's ears. The room grew warm, then hot, then stifling.

Only, it wasn't the room growing hot.

It was the boy.

His body was burning, aching, stretching, tearing. Something was screaming. Agony echoed through the room, carried by inhumane screams.

The chants grew louder.

He was screaming.

The chants grew faster.

He was glowing. His forehead was bleeding ink. It sizzled as the magic captured it, shrouded it in light, formed it into a ball and pounded it into submission.

He rose into the air, magic rushing up at him, down on him, battering him.

Screams tore through the air.

Bones cracked, the agonizing screams continued. Bones mended and muscle tore. Magic rushed into the muscle.

It surged, warped, boiled down into his toes.

His eyes were melting and reforming one at a time, each blood vessel popping and sealing, pulsing with his steadily rising heart rate.

At last, the chant reached its crescendo, the magic its peak, his scream its pinnacle.

…

Silence.

There was nothing but silence.

Silence and magic.

There was nothing but silence and magic.

Strong magic. It glowed.

It glowed gold.

…

"Oh dear God," Harry rasped. His throat felt damaged beyond repair and his entire body ached. "That was the most pain I've ever felt."

"I should think so," Bloodstar told him as she handed him a dark green potion.

"Took it long enough to run it's course." Slamback growled.

Harry merely groaned, knocking back the potion, which he assumed would help with the pain.

Of course, he didn't expect it to knock him out.

…

When he opened his eyes again, Bloodstar was standing over him, the Masters behind her.

"How do you feel?" Bloodstar asked.

"Like I worked out a little too hard." Harry said with a groan.

It was much better than how he felt directly after the ritual.

"Good." Slayer said with a scary grin. "Ready to begin?"

Harry's gulp was clearly heard.

…

**The next chapter will feature the training Harry will undergo. That is where you will begin to see traces of super-Harry.**


	4. Timed Training

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Warning: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, wealthy Harry, super Harry, goblin intervention, time interference, mature Harry, mature language, mature subject content.**

**Time Period: Current, being 2012, moving into 2013. **

**Hogwarts Year: Third year**

**Chapter Notes: Here we'll be covering the training Harry undergoes. Again, here you will see the beginnings of a super Harry. I don't know how far I will take it or to what degree it will be, but it will be present in certain measures.**

…

Harry hit the ground with a solid thump.

The breath rushed out of his lungs but he didn't falter, rolling to the left and avoided the booted foot crashing down next to his head. He sprung into a crouch, foot kicking out and swiping Riptooth's legs from underneath him.

The goblin surprised him by doing a one-hand spring and wrapping his arm around Harry's neck from behind. Harry jabbed an elbow back and threw his weight forward, slamming the goblin over his shoulder and onto the ground.

Like a flash of lightning, Harry had his knee on the goblins chest, knife at his throat and glowing hand over Riptooth's heart.

"Give?" Harry asked with a grin.

Riptooth blasted him off with a burst of raw magic, leaving Harry on his back, stars behind his eyes and a goblin with a knife at his neck on his chest.

"Give?" Riptooth mocked in a high pitched imitation of his voice.

Harry just rolled his eyes, putting his hands up in surrender.

"You have come far in six months." Slayer said. "But there is much work to be done. By the time we teach you some magic, you will have to be able to defeat all five of us."

Again, Harry gulped.

…

Sweat was mingling with the blood from a shallow gash along his forehead, dripping into his eyes. He was swinging the sword through the air with ruthless efficiency, cutting down a dummy with a slash to the neck, another deep into the junction of neck and shoulder.

Another hand spun out and threw a poison coated throwing knife into the eye of one dummy sneaking up behind him. A wand-less shield appeared to his left as a blast of sickly yellow light zoomed towards him.

He felt a hand grab his elbow, attempting to pull it behind his back. Harry dropped the sword, feeling it return to the sheath on his back. He pulled back his fist and knocked the dummy in the face, hard enough to simulate a knockout and send it careening to the floor, dissipating.

Harry drew his wand next, launching a serious of chained defensive spells at the ground below a group of three dummies feet.

One dummy raised a strong shield, leaving the others free to return fire. Harry sent a volley of arrows flying into their faces, strong enough to pierce he shield.

As expected, they were banished but Harry had already coated the floor in a flood of water, which he then froze.

Flames appeared around the dummies, melting the ice but not harming them. The heat caused steam and by the time the air had cleared, Harry was nowhere to be seen.

The dummies spun around, thinking Harry was behind them. However, he had never moved.

A throwing knife stabbed a dummy in the back, quickly followed by a burst of orange light. With only two dummies left, Harry drew his sword, wand in the other hand.

One fell to a spell chain and the other spun around with a sword of its own.

Harry parried and thrust with only one though in his mind; victory.

The dummy received a slash to the cheek, narrowly avoiding losing its head. Harry continued to slash at it, thrusting his sword into the dummies chest when it left itself open. He sword was twisted brutally, making the dummy falter, giving Harry enough time to slash a dagger across its throat.

Harry kicked the dummy off of his blade, sheathing it once more. Checking to assure that all of his weapons had returned, Harry turned to face the five goblins lounging in chairs in front of the dueling area.

"Good," Goldrock praised. "But more work will follow. You can barely take two of us."

Now Harry groaned.

…

A year and three months into his training, he beat Goldrock, Riptooth, Slamback, and Toughskin at once. However, it did result in his passing out and excessive bleeding on all parts. Add that to the fact that he couldn't beat Slayer on a two on one situation.

"You're trying to kill me!" Harry yelled at Toughskin.

He was ducking and weaving around flying projectiles meant to improve his dexterity. Most were sharp, others were green balls he needed to avoid because they stung and there were red balls, which he needed to catch.

He wasn't allowed to use magic and he was wearing cuffs to that effect. It prevented his magic from projecting outwards but it still infused his muscles and bones.

Harry ducked a particularly fast knife and bent over backwards to avoid another. He heard a whizzing from behind him and automatically spun to the left and dropped down.

After an hour of intense dodging and catching, the knives and balls fell, allowing Harry to drop to the ground on his back, chest heaving.

"Is that your idea of entertainment?" Harry asked Slayer.

The goblin merely smiled sadistically.

…

His whole body hurt. If felt like he had been trampled by a group of angry herd animals, like elephants.

"Merlin, what the fuck did you ass holes do to me?" Harry groaned.

He received five groans in response.

"Ouch," Harry said. "You guys look good,"

"Better than you, Potter," Slamback snarled.

"Well, who won?" Harry asked with a knowing grin.

"Shut up, you smug little shit," Goldrock told him.

"Oh, we'll be fine," Harry said, beginning to heal his wounds. He had picked up few healing spells in two and a half years.

…

Harry and the five goblins were sitting around the table, discussing the rest of his training.

"We don't need to cover subjects like runes and arithmancy," Harry said. "Do we?"

"Yes, we do," Toughskin corrected.

"Useful for wards," Goldrock said. "And you need to know wards."

"Also useful in spell creation," Slamback told him.

"More healing spells?" Harry suggested.

"Most definitely. You don't plan on being a healer later in life, do you, Potter?" Slayer asked.

"No," Harry told him. "Not in my future."

"Then we'll teach you some field healing spells, just enough to stop bleeding and heal minor wounds. Stasis healing spells as well."

"Then finances, of course," Riptooth voiced.

"And we might have a few rituals that can help you learn some languages." Goldrock said.

"What about the memory ritual?" Toughskin asked the other goblins.

"You want to put him through that?" Slamback asked, semi-incredulous.

"It's useful." Toughskin defended. "And it'll allow him to read a language dictionary and be able to fluently speak the language."

"But the chance that he'll have his mind destroyed is still there." Slayer pointed out.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Harry interrupted. "Just what are you sadistic bastards talking about?"

"Giving you an eidetic memory," Goldrock told him. "So you never forget anything. You'll also be able to read quicker."

"Then let's do it," Harry said, shrugging. "I doubt it'll kill me,"

"It could," Slayer revealed. "And if it doesn't it could destroy your mind, and then some."

"And then some?" Harry inquired.

"There are a few other side-effects aside from eidetic memory," Slamback said. "Ranging anywhere from beast-speaking skills to a different colored eye."

"What?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"The ritual involves goblin blood, which is highly unstable and not experimented with." Riptooth said.

"I say we do it," Toughskin said.

"Do you think it's worth the risk, Potter?" Slayer asked.

"Any advantage I can get, I guess," Harry agreed hesitantly.

"Then let's begin," Slayer said ominously.

…

When Harry opened his eyes, he was, once more, in an inordinate amount of pain. The only different was, the pain wasn't in his limbs but in his head.

His eyes, especially, were throbbing, his whole head pounding to a beat he couldn't hear. It felt like there was a fire raging in his skull and he doubted there was any healing spell to help with it.

"In pain, Potter?" Riptooth asked him.

Harry groaned.

"Thought so," He said back.

"Can you open your eyes?" Slamback asked him. "I want to see if they changed colors."

Harry, eyes still closed, flipped him off.

He heard a few chuckles before he lowered his eyes, slowly opening them.

Immediately thereafter, Harry screamed out in pain and slammed his arm back over his eyes.

"Whoa, Potter," Slayer said. "What happened? Can you see at all?"

"All I saw was color, and lot of it. Especially around you five." Harry revealed in a pained tone.

"What types of colors were around us?" Slayer asked.

"You, dark red," Harry answered. "And Goldrock is surrounded by a dark blue."

"Sounds like mage-sight," Slayer said to them.

"Mage sight?" Harry asked, confused.

"It's also known as magic sight, or the ability to see magic."

"See magic?" Harry asked. "Is that useful?"

"Absolutely." Slayer said. "Just very painful for the first few months."

"Months?" Harry yelled. "Oh dear God!"

"Well, it might actually be worse, seeing as you're in a room shrouded in time magic, some of the strongest magic we know."

"Oh joy." Harry groaned. "Is there any getting rid of it?"

"Why would you want to get rid of it?" Slamback asked. "It will allow you to sense any and all traps laid out before you. It will allow you to sense wards and what type they are. You'll be able to detect invisible potions, spells you never saw coming. The possibilities are endless."

"Alright, so it may be slightly useful," Harry agreed. "But what am I supposed to do about training?"

"Continue training." Goldrock said.

"Blind?" Harry pointed out, as if that was the answer to everything.

"Yes, blind." Slayer confirmed. "It will be a good lesson for you."

"What kind of training can I do blind?" Harry asked, thinking.

"Use your magic to see," Toughskin said. "You won't be blind for but three or four months."

"I have a spell to cast over your eyes that will slowly display magic in increasing increments until your looking a the rooms magic without knowing it."

"Hogwarts will be a challenge." Harry said.

"It probably won't be, honestly," Goldrock said. "You're eye's just need to desensitize. After that, no display of magic will be able to blind you again."

"Just peachy," Harry said, groaning again. "Why don't you cast that spell now? That way I can practice 'seeing' with my magic."

…

As promised, three and a half months later, the spell was removed from Harry's eyes. He could finally see again, without the use of his magic.

He had become quite proficient at viewing the world around him with only his own magic, feeling around as he twisted, turned, ducked, and slashed at both the goblins and dummies.

While he could not take on all five goblins blind, he could take on numerous dummies and two goblins with confidence. Three goblins were pushing it, especially when Slayer was involved.

The world around him was seen in a variety of bursting colors. However, the most obvious color was a giant blue web that was cast across every available surface.

"The blue web?" Harry inquired.

"The time field, I would assume." Toughskin answered, shrouded in a dark green color.

"Well, that's interesting." Harry said, looking around with, quite literally, brand new eyes.

"Ready to figure out what all the colors mean?" Slayer asked.

"How?" Harry asked.

He conjured a rock.

"What color?"

"Light yellow orange," Harry said. "With streaks of dark red."

"That would be my magic," Slayer told him. Then transfigured it into a leaf. "Now what color is it?"

"Orange-green," Harry said.

Slayer then changed the leaf to purple. "Now what color?"

"Oh you're kidding?" Harry asked hopefully. Slayer said nothing. "That's how you want to figure out what the colors mean? Trial and error?"

Slayer nodded to confirm.

"Oh dear God," Harry groaned.

…

Another two months passed, during which Harry pinpointed what the colors of magic he saw meant. He also learn basic and intermediate healing, as well as field healing and stasis healing.

He also learned arithmancy and runes, neither subject hard with ancient tomes as well as an eidetic memory.

Spell crafting was the difficult subject.

"Potter," Goldrock began. "You're missing an eyebrow."

"I'm aware." Harry said, rubbing the sting out.

"Potter," Goldrock said again. "I found your eyebrow."

"Really?" Harry asked, looking around. "Where is it? Can you reattach it?"

"It's already attached." The smug goblin told him.

"What? Where?" Harry asked excitedly, feeling the space where his eyebrow should be.

"A little lower." Goldrock told him.

Harry felt by his eye and under it.

"Getting warmer there, Potter," Slamback said with a rough chuckle.

With growing horror, Harry felt his upper lip.

"With a little more work," Toughskin began. "You might just get your first chest hair too."

Harry just shook his head, growling under his breath about sadistic goblins and stupid jokes. He waved his hand over his upper lip, moving his eyebrow back to his brow.

"That's why we wave out hand counterclockwise." Slayer told him.

"Who needs a spell to switch their eyebrows anyways?" Harry asked petulantly.

…

At the three-year mark, Harry was efficiently dueling all five goblins, creating spells, using wand less magic, and had learned six languages. French, Bulgarian, Italian, Spanish, German, and Russian would come in handy one day, of that he was sure. That or his head was filled with useless information.

He could now brew potions with efficiency, so long as he was allowed the brewing directions. His transfiguration was well past Hogwarts level, just as his charms talents were, as both subjects could be useful in a duel.

His spell repertoire now included many damaging and outright deadly spells, involving heart stopping spells and a blood-boiling hex. Most all of his spells were unregulated by the ministry because they did not know about the spells.

Harry could now efficiently wield a sword and any weapon with a blade. His was also very good at throwing knives and stars. He excelled in hand-to-hand combat of all forms, be it from street to martial arts. The goblins taught him many mixed forms, which he combined to create his own fluid fighting style.

His occlumency, a new talent that allowed him to defend his mind, was well past par. His mental defenses were excellent, as was the organization of his mind. It had to be when one had an eidetic memory.

Harry and the goblins had managed the finances of both the Potter and the Black families about a year into his training. He had learned off of them, as they really weren't in a good state. He still had massive amounts of wealth, he just wasn't gaining any.

Now he had a pile of companies to invest in, gold to place into different parts of the business world, and a few small debts to call in from hundreds of years ago.

The Black finances had taken a turn for the worse during Sirius' incarceration and it had taken Harry months of planning to get them all in order.

He was now prepared to manage his life in the most efficient way possible. He could defend himself physically, mentally, and legally. Not only that, he wouldn't hesitate to do so.

Harry and the five goblins stood in front of the great doors to the hall Harry had trained in. They were working together to bring down the time field, a complicated bit of magic because it was, essentially, a stasis charm, preventing the physical aging process.

"Are you ready to begin your life, Lord Potter Black?" Slayer asked.

"Indeed I am," Harry agreed, whipping his arm down with a concise movement.

Finally, the ward fell with a sharp crack and Harry and the goblins returned to normal time.

…

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter and will let me know in a review. Thanks for taking the time to read this, enjoy the next chapter. **


	5. Introduction to Luxury

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Warning: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, wealthy Harry, super Harry, goblin intervention, time interference, mature Harry, mature language, mature subject content.**

**Time Period: Current, being 2012, moving into 2013. **

**Hogwarts Year: Third year**

**Chapter Notes: Harry has emerged from the training room and now summer and other future plans begin to take hold.**

…

"Hey, you bloody tosser," Harry said as he kicked Sirius in the shin. "Wake the hell up."

"Where's the wine?" Sirius yelled as he startled awake.

"What?" Harry asked, giving him a sideways glance.

"Don't ask questions," Sirius told Harry offhandedly as he stared his godson up and down.

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry replied carefully.

"You bulked up," His godfather told him as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. "How long were you in for?"

Harry had grown to the above average height of 5'7.

A thick and defined layer of visible muscle now covered his body. His hair had grown down to the tops of his shoulders and looked intentionally messy and windswept. He held himself differently too.

He carried himself proudly, powerful magic permeating the air around him. His shoulders were back, head held high and lordship rings glinting on his fingers.

"Three long and beneficial years," Harry told him. "I'll tell you more after this meeting."

"And how was your three years of training?" Ragnok inquired as he entered his office.

"Enlightening, to say the least." Harry told the goblin as he sat behind his desk.

"Is there anymore business we need to attend to?" Ragnok asked.

"Just a few small matters," Harry said with a wry grin as he took two shrunken folders from his pockets.

When Harry un-shrunk the folders, Sirius' eyes widened and Ragnok looked as if he wished to bash his head into the nearest wall.

"These are the Potter and Black finances," Harry informed hem. "Or, at least, what I want them to look like."

"Dear Merlin, Harry," Sirius exclaimed. "What in the bloody hell did you do to them?"

"Fixed them," The Lord in question said with a wry grin. "They were both in sorry states, containing massive amounts of stagnating wealth,"

"And you'd like me to go through and make al, of the changes?" Ragnok inquired.

"You've got it," Harry said before he continued. "But there's a few more matters I'd like to deal with."

"Continue," Ragnok prodded while Harry swatted away Sirius' hands, which were pulling at his longer hair.

"Slayer seems convinced that I may be the heir to one of the founders, as I gained access to Salazar's chamber and defeated his basilisk with the sword of Gryffindor."

Ragnok thought for a moment, scratching his chin slowly.

"Hmm…" He said after another moment. "He could be correct. We'd have to do another, more extensive, blood line search." He told Harry.

"Might as well, I suppose," Harry agreed with a sigh.

"There's no harm in it, pup," Sirius said. "There's no Wizengamont seat associated with any of the Four Founders, only vaults and a fourth of Hogwarts."

"Right," Harry said. "And the title."

"Are you turning down money that could be rightfully yours?"

After a few moments pause, Harry reluctantly answered in the negative.

"That's what I thought." Sirius said smugly. "This could be really useful for you, Harry. Hogwarts will offer you a lot of protection if you're a founders heir."

"I would think that might be useful next year," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Indeed," Ragnok confirmed. "And seeing as the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff lines died out a hundred and fifty years ago, you would be one half owner of Hogwarts."

"Isn't it ridiculously hard to get a line to die out?" Sirius asked curiously.

"It is," Ragnok confirmed. "But the Wizengamont passed the motion, as suggested by the two Lords of the time."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Why?"

"There had been a recent attempt to force both parties into marriage under a regime of potions and spells. The families felt that such power not need fall into the hands of such forces."

"I'm not doing the same." Harry said. "That would endanger Hogwarts. What did they do with their shares?"

"Ravenclaw gave its shares to Slytherin and Hufflepuff left its shares to Gryffindor."

"Oddly convenient," Harry said to himself.

"Rowena was a seer." Ragnok said. "It was prophesized by her ahead of time and her descendants obeyed her last will and testament,"

"That's crazy," Sirius said.

"Look who's talking, narcoleptic little bastard." Harry grumbled.

"Shall we commence the blood testing?" Ragnok asked with a scary grin.

"Just how much blood are we talking?" Harry asked, semi-nervous.

"Just a pinch," Ragnok told him, withdrawing a wicked dagger from his desk.

Harry gulped.

…

Ten minutes later, Ragnok was holding a sheet of parchment in his hands. Harry could see more and more writing appear as time went on until the paper flashed briefly and no more was written.

"So…" Sirius trailed off. "What's it say?"

"Well, unsurprisingly, you are the heir to Gryffindor." Ragnok told Harry, who let out a noisy sigh. "However, you are also the heir to Slytherin."

"What?" Sirius exclaimed. "How?"

"It seems that it came from your mothers side of the family." The goblin said.

"But I thought my mother was a muggleborn?" Harry asked, surprise written across his face.

"There must have been a squib somewhere in her family that married in. It wouldn't be impossible to find out where, if it truly matters."

"No, I don't suppose it does." Harry responded. "But that means two more accounts to manage, and that might be hard next year, especially in the Gryffindor quarters."

"I doubt that it will be hard to convince the castle to assign you your own set of rooms." Sirius said. "If what I've heard about heir-privileges are true."

"But, if my parents were heirs too, why didn't they know? Wouldn't the castle do something?"

"It's quite possible that the castle simply didn't feel the need to reveal herself, or that they were powerful enough in terms of magic."

"I guess so," Harry said. "Let's just get the paperwork signing over with and bring the me bloody rings."

"Ask and ye shall receive, Lord Potter Black Gryffindor Slytherin."

Harry simply growled in response, leaving both Sirius and the goblin chuckling.

…

When Harry and Sirius stepped out of Gringotts, neither truly knew where they would go from there.

"Why don't we grab a private room at the Red Dragon and plan out our summer?" Sirius suggested. "I grabbed pamphlets."

"Sounds good," Harry agreed. "Where is the Red Dragon? And what is it?"

"It's a restaurant on the other side of the alley," Sirius told him. "It's not as well known as the Leaky Cauldron but it's much nicer and better lit at that."

"Sounds much better," Harry told his godfather as they walked down the alley.

"We should probably get you some new clothes as well," Sirius remarked. "Though it's not like I'm much better. These robes are from my seventh year."

"Nifty charm work," Harry told Sirius with a chuckle.

When they arrived at the Red Dragon, a hostess who Sirius shamelessly flirted with led them to a private room in the back of the red and gold room.

"Can I interest you in lunch? Our special today is shrimp alfredo pasta with scallops and fresh garden salad."

"Two of the special, please," Sirius answered. "And two butter beers as well."

"That will be two galleon and three sickles." She told them.

Harry handed the waitress five galleons, telling her to keep the change before Sirius attempted to keep her.

"Don't tempt me, Harry," Sirius said, giving the waitress a roguish grin.

When the waitress left and the two butter beers arrived at their table, Sirius and Harry began discussing their summer plans.

"Well, I'm pretty sure Seamus said he was going to Ireland this coming Monday. Am I to assume you'd like to get our home all sorted out before then?"

"Seeing as it's late Thursday right now, I think that might be reasonable." Sirius agreed. "Have you looked anywhere?"

"Yes, actually," Harry said. "Except it's somewhere in America."

"Is that a problem?"

"As long as it doesn't bother you, I don't mind at all."

"Alright," Harry said. "I'll send a letter to the realtor and we can see it first thing in the morning."

"Sounds good," Sirius said. "Why don't we finish our lunch and go shopping for the basics."

"The basics?" Harry inquired.

"We're going to go shopping all through summer, pup," Sirius said. "So just a trunk, toiletries, and five muggle and wizard outfits."

"If you say so." Harry told Sirius with a shrug.

"We'll go shopping again before school starts." Sirius told him.

"Alright," Harry said.

"Dig in," The waitress said as she set down their plates.

…

Sirius was not as much of a shopping maniac as Harry had thought him to be. They had gone into Madam Malkins, where they had their measurements taken, and asked for five muggle and magical outfits.

Madam Malkin was told to pick the colors and include shoes.

"Thankfully she provides actual muggle clothes, like jeans and t-shirts," Sirius told Harry. "Saves us a trip."

"Where to next, godfather o' mine?" Harry asked happily.

"Well, we should probably get you and I both a trunk." Sirius said, pursing his lips. "Then we go to Zonko's."

"Zonko's?" Harry asked carefully.

"Don't tell me you haven't heard of Zonko's!" Sirius exclaimed, horrified.

"Of course I have," Harry defended. "Just wondering why we need to go there."

"Why we need to go there?" Sirius exclaimed again. "Why would we…crazy child…corrupt him yet..." He muttered to himself.

Harry was pulled into a travel store where he bought a five compartment mahogany trunk. One compartment was for school stuff, like books, ink, quills, and parchment while another was a wardrobe. There was an area for potions storage and a library of sorts as well as another normal but expanded compartment.

Sirius bought the same trunk made of cherry as well as a few terrain oriented travelers pack, which he hid from Harry.

"For my eyes only, pup," He said, swatting Harry's hands away. "You'll find out later."

Harry pouted and eyed the packs, observing the magic on them. Most of the spells were for protection from elements as well as a few expansion charms. Overall, nothing conclusive as to the contents.

"Well, is that all?" Harry asked.

"Yes, it seems to be so." Sirius said, looking at his wrist. "Oh! Let's go to the jewelry shop!"

"For what?" Harry enquired curiously.

"Watches." Sirius said.

"Can't you cast a tempus charm?" Harry pointed out.

"No," Sirius denied.

"Are you sure?"

"I just want something shiny!" Sirius yelled, attracting the attention of surrounding shoppers. "After all of the cheating and the lying, don't you think I deserve that? Don't you? Don't you!"

"Uh-" Harry stalled, looking for an escape from Sirius, who was valiantly attempting to attract the attention of shoppers with his dramatics and succeeding.

"I'll sign the divorce papers! I'll sue you with everything I've got! I'll take it all! Everything! Even Mr. Coco!"

"Right, right," Harry said, pushing Sirius past the shoppers. "Something shiny it is."

"Thank you, Harry," Sirius sad sweetly, batting his eyes. "You'll pay for it, won't you?"

"Of course, Sirius," Harry placated. "I can write it off on my taxes as charity."

"Whatever you say, Sugar Daddy," Sirius said, winking.

"Oh dear Merlin," Harry groaned. "I'm taking you in public? Around the world?"

"Damn straight." Sirius said. "Oh! Shiny!"

Sirius now had his face pressed against the glass storefront of the jewelry shop.

"This is where we go in the shop, Sirius," Harry said.

"Bah-humbug to social conventions," Sirius said, waving his hand.

"Going into a store to ogle isn't a social convention." Harry told him.

"Oh." Sirius looked puzzled. "Ok." And he skipped into the store.

…

After a 45-minute stay in the jewelry shop, Sirius and Harry left with two watches and an ear piercing. Harry, of course, didn't receive his willingly. Then they went and picked up their clothes from Madam Malkins, who allowed them to use a dressing room and pull on a muggle outfit.

"Let's see about grabbing some Dragon hide armor to wear under our clothes." Sirius suggested.

"Might be a good idea," Harry said. "Where can we get some?"  
"There's a store towards the Red Dragon that does specialty armor. They should have a least two sets to wear under clothes on hand."

Harry and Sirius made their way down the alley and into the store Sirius spoke of. In little time, they were able to get two set of armor and put them on.

"Well," Sirius said. "Ever been to a cinema?"

"A muggle one?" Harry asked.

"Yep," Sirius said. "Lily took me to see a drive in one once."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Which one?"

"Dracula." Sirius said, laughing.

Harry laughed along with him, bumping shoulders with his godfather.

"Then let's go to the cinema!" Sirius said, leading them through the Leaky Cauldron.

…

Harry and Sirius paid a ridiculously sum of money for a large popcorn and two drinks, but both him and his godfather enjoyed the experience.

The Guilt Trip, an American comedy, amused Sirius and Harry for an hour and a half, by which time it was around nine in the evening.

"I suppose we should get a room in the Leaky, no?" Harry asked.

"No," Sirius told him. "We're going to stay in a real hotel. You've never explored London, Harry,"

"No, I haven't," Harry agreed.

"Well, it's a city many would kill to visit," Sirius said. "We're going to shop here, in all of the stores Paris Hilton would shop in."

"Ok…" Harry said. "But I don't know who she is…"  
"And we're going to buy some tabloids."

…

Harry was staring up at a massive white and red brick building. There were two doormen in red opening the door for finely dressed people.

"Why this hotel?" Harry asked Sirius, who was leading him inside.

"This hotel is home to the most expensive hotel suite in all of London."

"That's nice." Harry said.

"And we are going to stay in it."

"What?" Harry said. "Why? We'll only be here for three days, if that."

"Harry." Sirius said seriously. "You have much to learn. The first thing that you will learn is that you are stinking, filthy rich."

"I know that."

"Then you will use the money however you want."

"And what if I want to stay in the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Let me rephrase that. I will use the money however I want until I feel you can safely make your own money spending decisions."

"Ragnok was right." Harry said. "You are unstable. And I reserve the right to put my foot down, Sirius."

"Good, you recognize this. And sure, whatever you want." Sirius said patronizingly as he walked into the posh marble lobby and up to the check in desk.

"We'd like a book a room until Monday morning."

"All of our rooms are booked." The receptionist sneered.

"Alright, let's try this again." Sirius said, glaring down his nose, suddenly becoming the Lord he was raised to be. "We will be occupying the royal suite until Monday morning."

Harry slid his black credit card across the desk towards the snotty woman who was, very suddenly, quite accommodating.

…

"Enjoy your stay, sirs," The butler said as he opened the double doors to the suite.

Sirius slammed the door in the man's face.

"Welcome," Sirius said. "To luxury."

…

Harry and Sirius spent the night bouncing around each room, laughing and sharing stories. They rented another movie on the television and poked around the wet bar.  
"Interested in getting drunk?" Sirius asked.

"Uh- no." Harry said.

"What?" Sirius asked, shocked.  
"Just, not tonight," Harry said nervously.

"Harry…" Sirius said calculatingly. "Have you ever been drunk before?"

"Um…No?" Harry tried.

"Oh, Potter," Sirius cackled. "Just you wait for Dublin."

…

The next morning, Sirius and Harry had breakfast in the hotel restaurant and then reserved a car for the day.

They drove around London for a day, stopping once or twice in certain stores and going to all of the tourists' sites.

Harry even managed to drag Sirius into a museum, but had to leave him in the kids section to do anything.

Then, Harry happened upon the magical portion of the museum.

"Sirius," Harry said. "Come here!"

Sirius reluctantly came away from the drawing board and followed Harry into the magical portion of the museum.

"I didn't even know this was here," Sirius said, staring at the moving pictures.

"I can't believe I haven't heard about 90% of this stuff!" Harry exclaimed. "And look! They have a Quidditch section!"

Harry and Sirius looped around the Quidditch museum and Harry picked up a pamphlet.  
"Hey look, Sirius!" Harry exclaimed. "Puddlemere United is currently for sale."

"That's interesting," Sirius said. "The last time a team was up for sale was in the forties."

"How long do you think they'll be on the market for?" Harry asked.

"They've been up for seven months, Harry," Sirius said, pointing to the date on the next line.

"Why has no one bought it?" Harry wondered.

"This could spell the end of the league." Sirius said.

"How?" Harry asked. He had never really known much about the Quidditch business. That was more of Dean and Seamus' speed.

"The Puddlemere team has one of the biggest fan-bases. They sell the most merchandise, which the league taxes and uses for more games and license management."

"But why has no one bought them?" Harry insisted.

"Probably because of the crappy nature of the team, horrible condition of their stadium and training facilities, and lack of a permanent manager."

Harry nodded and moved onto the next exhibit, which was over dragons.

"Their weakest point on their body is their eyes and the underside of the body." Harry read, touching an expanse of skin they had stretched over the wall. It felt the same as his under armor.

"Look at that knight," Sirius said, pointing up at the painting.

The knight was dressed in solid black armor but was lying mangled in the jaw of the dragon.

"Smart," Harry said sarcastically. "Honestly, it's not that hard to defeat a dragon."

"Oh?" Sirius inquired curiously. "How so?"

"They had bad peripheral vision and weak eyes. A wide spread concussion tunnel curse would pop the membrane over their eyes and temporarily blind them with blood. A triple strike-cutting curse should be able to tear or partially sever the wing, preventing it from becoming airborne. A freeze blast to an open mouth should stop flame spouting for a limited mount of time and from there a high powered blasting curse to the frozen-open maw should kill it."

"Somehow, pup," Sirius said after a moments silence. "I doubt it would be that easy for any other wizard."

"No, probably not. I could just talk to them in parsel."

"Dragons speak parsel?" Sirius asked curiously.

"In theory," Harry told him. "But not in practice,"

…

Sirius and Harry went and had lunch in London before going to a park and feeding a few ducks.

Harry, claiming fatigue, convinced Sirius to go back to the hotel.

"Harry," Sirius whined. "You're so boring!"

"Sirius," Harry said as he sat at the large desk in the suites office. "I just accepted the Lordship of two ancient families. I have to get the affairs in order to maximize prophets,"

"Blah, blah, blah," Sirius said.

"I have a feeling you'll be happy with the newest arrangement." Harry said as he peered at Sirius.

"Is that so?" Sirius asked, coming up to sit at a chair in front of the desk.

"Yes," Harry said. "I bought Puddlemere United."

…

**Please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts, but bear in mind that I will not play nice should I feel your tone is offensive. We can all respect each other here, and I value the opinions of my readers. **


	6. An Island Home

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Warning: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, wealthy Harry, super Harry, goblin intervention, time interference, mature Harry, mature language, mature subject content.**

**Time Period: Current, being 2012, moving into 2013. **

**Hogwarts Year: Third year**

**Chapter Notes: This is where you will finally get to see the house. The house is somewhat similar, though larger, to a house I found in Bentwater, a country club in Texas. You can find the house by searching "201 Promenade Bentwater." The island really is where it says it is, and is called North Fox. The only thing actually there is a dirt airstrip. **

…

"You did what?" Sirius asked, jaw dropping.

"I bought the Puddlemere United team. Every share. It's 100% mine."

"Why?" Sirius asked incredulously. "You know how much money you're going to use? Harry, that's a lot of money to put into a terrible team. You're losing a fair bit of money."

"It cost me 1.2 million galleons, Sirius," Harry said. "And I can already see possibilities for return."

"Are you insane?" Sirius scolded.

"Sirius," Harry said sternly. "You are not my father. I have made a calculated decision and already have plans in motion to see fifty percent of my profits returned to me in a month and a half."

"I have flooed a building company. They are muggleborns who use both magic and physical means to construct massive buildings. They will be building a new stadium on a huge plot of land I own somewhere between Cambridge and Norwich."

"How do you already have this set up?" Sirius asked, shocked. Harry's rebuke had stung but Sirius could see the sense in it and realized that Harry wasn't a child.

"Well, the owner of the company, Innovation Builders, is a Quidditch fanatic. He showed me the plans for a huge stadium as well as a training facility."

"But how did you even get access to a floo? I've left you alone for five hours." Sirius exclaimed.

"The goblins taught me a few interesting tricks. And for you it's been five hours. For me it's been about twelve."

"You have a time turner?" Sirius asked, jaw hanging open once more.

"Slamback insisted that I have a hobby. I developed a project instead." Harry explained with a smirk.

"Well, tell me more about your plans." Sirius said.

"The stadium will be the size of the ones they use for the World Cup, except slightly larger in the stands."

"Damn, Harry," Sirius said. "You don't go small."

"Go big or go home," Harry said, smirking again. "Speaking of home, we'll be touring my favorite in the morning. The realtor will bring the deed ready to sign. And I have the bank note ready."

"Alright," Sirius said. "Where is the training facility?"

"When I said huge plot of land, I meant huge." Harry said. "The stadium is on one edge and the training facility is on the other."

"What's the training facility like?" Sirius asked. "I seem to remember the old ones being shitty."

"There are three pitches." Harry said. "However, there are only wooden, permanent bleachers rather than stadium seats."

"Why three?"

"One for the team, another for the reserves, and one for summer camp or junior leages."

"Summer camp?" Sirius asked.  
"Yes, effective next summer, of course," Harry said. "Should be exciting."

"You don't say?" Sirius said. "Might get one or two of those Quidditch girls into bed, promise them a free ticket or two."

"Wow, Sirius," Harry said. "I'd be shocked if I hadn't already thought it."

"You're learning," Sirius praised, ruffling Harry's hair.

"Aside from that, Harry said, swatting Sirius' hand away. "There will be a hospital wing, dining hall, muggle training room, broom building, locker rooms, as well as a building with enough rooms for every player and reserves. I have also arranged for a series of cabins to be built for any summer camp attendees next summer."

"Sounds like you're taking care of your team."

"I am," Harry confirmed. "I've talked to the manufacturers of the action figures and posters, then fired them all."

"What?" Sirius asked. "Are you talking about Wizard Media?"

"Yep," Harry confirmed.

"They've had a monopoly over memorabilia for years," Sirius said. "Since the thirties."

"Well, their action figures aren't realistic, nor are they interactive enough for my likings. Not only that, the material is not of high quality and they demand too much of the revenue."

"Well, who else did you find?" Sirius asked.

"Magic Toys."

Sirius' eyebrows raised but Harry cut him off.

"And don't even say it, Black," He scolded. "They make children's toys."

Sirius pouted. "Take all my fun."  
"We'll have fun later. I still have more business to attend to." Harry informed his rowdy godfather.

"What else do you have to do, right this minute?" Sirius inquired, peering over Harry's shoulder.

"I need to arrange a day and a place to meet every member of the team. More than that, I need to get Seamus and Deans replies over their dream team."

"Dream team?"

"Those two boys know more about Quidditch than anyone I've met. I've explained the situation to them and I've asked them to put together their Quidditch dream team."

"Like, rosters?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, nodding his head. "But more than that. They are considering record, current team and that teams willingness to let go, as well as player personality to prevent clashes."

"And when do you think this letter will come in?"

"Well…" Harry said. "I may or may not have created a small hole in the dimension, stuck my hand through with the letter and called for Dobby to take it to them."

"You can do that?" Sirius asked, incredulously.

"I can see magic. If I focus hard enough, I can see the weaving of the world. It's a headache, that's for sure, and the goblins don't know just what it is. They seem to think it's a gift that will become full useable at fifteen or sixteen."

"Fifteen or sixteen?"

"Their Arithmancy can't get any more exact."  
"Right…" Sirius said. "But isn't sending a letter back however long a little dangerous?"

"It would be," Harry agreed. "But I'm not sending it back. I'm opening a little window in the space-time continuum and looking in. Then I'm just dropping something from one side of the window into the other and then closing the window."

"Right." Sirius said. "I have a feeling that was seriously dumbed down?"

"You would be right," Harry said. "And I sent it back a week and a half. That should be enough time."

"But weren't you at Hogwarts then?" Sirius asked, confused.

"I may not have told them who I was." Harry said, tilting his head.

"Then why would they agree?"

Harry rubbed his middle and index finger against his thumb, the universal symbol for money.

"Devious little bastard." Sirius said.

Harry simply shrugged.

"Well, how do you know it will be today?"

"They won't get their money if it isn't." Harry said simply. "Why don't we go watch that movie you wanted to watch? What was it called?"

Sirius gave him a scary smirk.

"Operation Desert Stormy."

…

Harry stared blankly at the screen.

"What just happened?" He whispered brokenly.

"You have just been educated." Sirius said. "Partially. You'll need to start reading karma sutra."

"How did she get her leg there?" Harry whispered again, horrified.

"Harry, stop trying to act like you didn't enjoy it."

"Oh my God…" Harry said, rocking slightly.

Sirius heaved a heavy, disappointed sigh.

"We'll desensitize you yet."

Harry nodded despondently.

Sirius patted him on the back.

…

Harry knocked back a shot with Sirius. After the film that Harry had been coerced into watching, Sirius was intent to get him drunk too.

After an hour of prodding, Harry said fuck it and grabbed the bottle.

…

"Oh my head…" Sirius groaned as he turned over. He heard a thump from behind him. When he finally picked up his head, all he saw was his godson sprawled out on the floor, legs still tangled partially in the blanket, half of which was on the couch he had been previously occupying.

"Morning," Sirius groaned.

"Shhh," Harry hissed.

"Heada-"

"Shh!" Harry hissed louder.

"Har-"

"Shh"

"But-"

"Shh!"

"Alright."

"SHHHH!"

Harry groaned some more as he detangled, groaning.

"Oh fuck…" Harry said quietly.

"Oh fuck is right, my dear godson." Sirius said, grinning despite the pounding in his head and the horrendous dry mouth.

"Why did we go down to the pool?" Harry asked.

"Because we were drunk."

"Why did hat woman grope me?"

"Because you're hot."

"You're hot." Harry said back.

"No, you're hot." Sirius replied.

"No, you're-" Harry stopped. "What the fuck are we doing?"

"I have no fucking clue. But it never happened."

"Agreed."

"I wish I had a hangover potion," Sirius said wistfully.

"Me too," Harry said, thinking. "Hmm…"

"Shh."

"Dobby?" Harry called loudly. Sirius then threw a pillow at him for this offense.

The excitable house elf arrived on summon, opening his mouth to squeal.

"No, Dobby," Harry whispered in warning. "Need hangover potion first."

The little house elf nodded solemnly before popping away.  
Two minutes later, he returned with two swirling green and blue potions. Harry and Sirius downed them gratefully, sighing with relief.

"Master Harry Potter sir feeling better?" Dobby asked, voice rising in pitch.

"Yes, much," Harry said. "Thank you, Dobby,"

"Oh, Master Harry sir is too kind," Dobby said, stumbling over his feet.

"Dobby, this is my godfather Sirius Black." Harry said, introducing them. "Sirius, this is Dobby. He tried to save my life once."

"Tried?" Sirius inquired, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I ended up with a warning from the ministry about magic he did, got caught in the Whomping Willow, and broke my arm.

"Damn." Sirius said. "Sounds more like he tried to kill you,"

"No," Harry said hastily, looking at Dobby who had teas welling in his eyes. "He was a great help that year."

Dobby smiled brightly, clutching onto Harry's leg.

"Oh Master Harry Potter, sir!" He cried. "You is too kind."

"Say, Dobby," Harry said thoughtfully. "How would you like to officially become my personal elf?"

"Master Harry Potter, sir, is too kind to Dobby!" Dobby cried. "Dobby would love to serve Master Harry Potter, sir,"

"Alright, Dobby," Harry said, patting the house elf's bald head. "But you have to call me just Harry. Not Master Harry Potter,"

"Yes, Master Harry,"

"Dobby!" Harry groaned.

"Yes, Master Harry?" The house elf asked with a sly smirk.

Sirius laughed, shaking his head. "Give up, Harry. House elves are surprisingly stubborn."

"Alright, fine," Harry said. "Now shall we bond?"  
"Yes, Master Harry," Dobby said, bouncing.

"I, Lord Harry James Potter Black Gryffindor Slytherin, do hereby claim elf Dobby as my personal elf and bind him forever to me. So mote it be."

"So mote it be," Dobby repeated.

There was a glow of green tinged with gold around Harry and Dobby, which subsided within a few seconds.

Dobby seemed to straighten up, gaining a few inches in height. He filled out a little more and his eyes looked brighter. His skin seemed healthier and his magic, too, was stronger.

"How can Dobby serve, Master Harry?" Dobby asked happily.

"Well, Sirius and I need to be in a small town in Michigan called Charlevoix to meet a realtor."

"Dobby can get Master Harry there," Dobby said eagerly. "And his dogfather too."

…

Two hours later, Dobby popped Harry and Sirius into an unused alleyway in the cooler air of the Americas.

"Cooler across the pond," Sirius commented, peering around the corner of the alley.

"Indeed," Harry said, looking at the watch Sirius forced him into. "We're right on time, thanks, Dobby,"

"Shall Master Harry call Dobby to return?" Dobby asked quietly, happiness in his tone.

"Yes, thank you again, Dobby," Harry said.

Sirius and Harry walked casually out of the alley and into the building next to them. Jessica Parker, the realtor in charge of the North Fox estate, instantly greeted them.

"Ready to take the boat over, sirs?" She asked after pleasantries.

Her American accent was strong but not as grating as Harry expected.

"I think I might like spending time in America," Harry said, smiling at her charmingly and looking her up and down.

She blushed heavily and scurried to the door.

"Luckily, we're right across the way from the dock." Jennifer said, still blushing.

She led Sirius and Harry onto a small boat with enclosed cabin. The three of them took a seat and someone began to steer.

"So tell me more about the house," Sirius prodded Jennifer with a sly smile and suggestive glance.

"Well, it's situated on a ten acre island name North Fox in the semi-center of Lake Michigan. Styled to be similar to that of a medieval castle, there are eleven bedrooms, five of which are full suites, and 11 full baths and two half. An eight care collectors garage also adds to the space."

"How many square feet?" Harry asked.

"23,475," Jennifer told him. "But it was just remodeled in 2010, so everything is completely up to date. Equipped with a wine room and cellar as well as a cigar room, media room, fourth floor office, tower library, and an elevator this home will give you the ability to get the best the world has to offer without leaving the comfort of private property."

"Did you just read the listing description?" Harry asked, trying not to laugh while raising an eyebrow.

"Possibly," Jennifer said mysteriously.

"So when you're showing the house you're selling the whole island?" Sirius asked.

"Precisely," She agreed nervously. She really needed the massive commission this sale would bring. "And if you'd like, Mr. Black, we can fill the paperwork out now in case you decide you'd like to buy the house."

"Oh no," Sirius said. "I'm not buying anything. I'm just here to look around,"

"Then what…" Jennifer trailed off.

"I will be making the final decision of the house, Ms. Parker," Harry interjected calmly, raising an eyebrow. "The payment will also be extracted from my account."

"Oh," She squeaked, blushing. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize."

"It's quite alright," Harry said. He was fully capable of being a functioning adult when he needed to.

"In that case, we have mortgaging options to review, probably on some sort of mortgage plan," The flustered realtor told Harry as she pushed papers around in her folder.

"What's a mortgage?" Harry asked jokingly.

However, it didn't appear that she got the joke as she looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"A payment plan for the house…" She trailed off, looking like she wished to order the captain to turn the boat around.

"Payment?" Harry asked, eye widening theatrically. "I have to pay for the house? There's not like, a trial period? Maybe I could stay in the house for the summer, see if I want to buy it?"

She now looked like she wanted to throw up. For a moment, everyone was silent. Then, Sirius and Harry both cracked up, high fiving.

"I'm just kidding," Harry said, chuckling. "But I won't be paying a mortgage. I figured I'd just pay in full. Is that possible?"

Jennifer nodded her head, looking like she doubted he could afford the cost of the house.

"Good," Harry said.

"I think we're here, pup," Sirius said, looking up at the massive estate before them. "It is rather large, isn't it?"

"Well, why don't we go inside?" Jennifer said, shaking her head. 'What an odd set of people,' She thought to herself.

"Absolutely," Harry said, stepping out of the boat and onto the finely crafted dock suitable for two large yachts and numerous smaller ships.

"Sirius, we might need a boat," Harry said, staring up at the large castle like house.

It looked much more modern than Hogwarts, the only resemblance being the turret, of which this house had only one.

Sirius neglected to comment, choosing instead to assist Jennifer in removing herself from the boat, lending her his hand.

She took it with yet another blush, brushing her skirt down once her feet reach the dock; she grabbed her leather folder/case and began leading the walk up the finely paved path up to the patio.

"Welcome, to North Fox Castle," She said grandly as she opened the doors.

They were led around the bottom floor, which housed the kitchen, ballroom, dining room, wine room, media room, parlor, sitting room, bar room, and three large bedrooms with bathrooms scattered in between them.

The basement contained a gym, storage area, wine cellar and an indoor pool, as well as a panic room that, for obvious reasons, wasn't included in the brief summary he had received.

The second floor held another large sitting room, a game room, a small infirmary with adjoining office, four bedrooms (again, bathrooms attached) and a long, tall, wide room that was really quite large.

"What's this room for?" Harry asked, confused.

"If I'm not mistaken, the builders of this house had a large family and ran a home office." Jennifer said, looking around the room.

"Might explain the small kitchen and dining area." Harry hypothesized.

"Yes," She agreed. "Was probably a break room of sorts. I honestly have no idea what type of office it was. The man was insanely wealthy and retired."

The third floor consisted of four bedrooms and bathrooms, a large and amazing home theater, 50's style vintage diner equipped with snack bar concessions, cigar room, another lounge with a large bar, a sunny parlor with a beach view, and a potions lab.

"What room is this?" Harry asked the muggle woman.

He and Sirius looked at each other. They were both clearly thinking the same thing: Why was there a potions lab in a muggle home?

"Oh, the man had a grandson that lived here. He was a chemist. He's the one selling the house, actually," Jennifer said.

"Oh," Sirius said, not really sure what a chemist was.

The fourth and final floor was the most spacious, simply because it was essentially, the Master floor. The staircase led up to two large, wide, arched wooden doors, with engravings of lions and unicorns.

Those doors entered into a large marble foyer, which had door leading to the kitchen and the living room, as well as a hall leading to the bedroom and bathroom, which looked more like a fully-fledged spa. There was a sauna and an office as well as a conference room.

The smallest room, off of the living room, was the size of a small, round closet. There was a large, wooden spiral staircase leading up all the way through the three-story tower. It was large and spacious with huge bookcases dominating every wall. The carpet and walls were decorated deep red with gold accents.

"Well, that's the tour," Jennifer said as she led them out of the house and back towards the still waiting boat.

"What do you think, Sirius?" Harry asked his godfather, who was throwing medium sized rocks from his pockets and dropping them in the water to hear their splash.

"I like it," He said. "Lots of furniture, though,"

"Yeah," Harry said. "We'll probably do it all room by room. Start with bedrooms and the kitchen."

"Good idea," Sirius said. "We can get Do-novan-" He paused, not wanting to use Dobby's name and have the elf pop up, as he has a tendency to do. "To move everything into place if we use a mail order catalogue."

"Alright," Harry said, shaking his head slightly. "We'll take it,"

…

After they spent the entire boat ride back to mainland signing papers, Harry handed Jennifer the bank note and transfer information for 27,750,000 U.S. dollars.

She stared at it in awe, shaking slightly as she handed him the deed and scurried back into the office with a wave and a shouted, "Thanks!"

…

"Well," Harry said. "You think we should go back to the house and build up some wards?"

"Most likely," Sirius said. "Then we'll see what furniture out vaults have in them."

"I have the folders," Harry said. "I arranged for a new vault to be made for the furniture of each family. I already have listings and descriptions for each piece."

"Well," Sirius said. "Dobby,"

…

The island was still absolutely beautiful, peaceful forest and beautiful beach. The water was extremely cold, but, for a wizard, that shouldn't be a problem.

Sirius and Harry had removed large hunks of stone from his trunk and were setting four on the edge of the island, pointing North, South, East, and West. They also dropped one in the center of the house in the basement.

Harry chanted spell after spell while Sirius held the wards up and helped Harry anchor them. Once the first wards were in place, Harry netted the other over it. He also cast a Fidelius charm, with himself as the secret keeper. He relayed the words to Sirius immediately then keyed him into the other wards.

"Maybe we should go somewhere for lunch," Harry said, wiping his brow.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "The kitchen."

…

**Alright, here's the end of chapter six. A little short, I know, but I'm using someone else computer and I don't have as much time with it to sit down and type long chapters. Please leave me your thoughts in a review. **


	7. Ashtown Lodge

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Warning: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, wealthy Harry, super Harry, goblin intervention, time interference, mature Harry, mature language, mature subject content.**

**Time Period: Current, being 2012, moving into 2013. **

**Hogwarts Year: Third year**

**Chapter Notes: I love all of the feedback; you all are great. However, there are a few flames I need to address.**

**I was told that a reader had high hopes for my story and that it had turned into self-indulgent crap. This is a story about living a life never experienced before, not about being weapon-ized and putting an entire nation of assholes before oneself. **

**At the same time, I was told that this should be a story about Harry having a childhood with an adult Sirius, not Harry being weapon-ized. All I have to say is, write your own story. If any of you want a story with a childhood for little Harry, THIS STORY IS NOT FOR YOU! I have a direction I'm taking this story in and I feel the need to make one thing clear. I know what I want in this story, and I don't care if it's cliché. I was reading the stories the clichés originate from when they were new ideas. I know what I like, so I'm writing what I like.**

**On the same note, I'm open to suggestions I can fit into my story line. I love the positive reviews and do want to make my readers happy.**

**I also may not have made it clear that this story is not taking place in the nineties, it's taking place in the current time period. Or, rather, a few months behind.**

* * *

"Sirius," Harry said. "I don't want to travel around the world all summer."

"Alright," He said. "Then what do you want to do?"

"Well, I still want to visit Ireland, and probably France; America for sure, and Egypt."

"Well, we can definitely do that." Sirius said. "Just need to plan a little more."

"And I want to work on the Puddlemere project. The builders have finalized the plan and are constructing the wards first. I'd like to stop by and check on those."

"Well, it's Saturday and we've had breakfast. Why don't we head on over now?"

"Alright," Harry agreed, picking up a snitch from a desk drawer. "Hold on tight,"

* * *

The grass they landed on was soft and green. Miles of green fields stretched on, but a large group of people could be seen with visible magic emanating from their wands.

A smaller group stood behind them, pouring over building plans.

"Hello, Mr. Chad," Harry said to the man approaching him.

"Lord Potter," The tall blonde man with bulky muscles and tanned face said with a friendly smile.

"How's the warding going?" Harry asked, looking around.

"Damn good," He said boomingly. "They should be finished within the hour,"

"These your men?" Harry asked.

"Contracting company," Mr. Chad informed him. "But their work's good."

"It better be," Harry said, observing the magic in the wards. It was quality work, however, and Harry found no evident flaws.

"Our next step is to section off the areas for buildings. We're starting with the offices and quarters, then we'll move on to the training rooms and dining halls, as well as those cabins you added. After that, we'll build the pitches."

"When can I expect you to be finished?" Harry asked.

"Two weeks," Mr. Chad offered. "At the least, I can't put a guarantee on that. Magic can only do so much, you know,"

"Yes," Harry agreed with a nod of his head. "I'll check back up in a couple of days, good luck."

"See you then, Lord Potter," Mr. Chad said as he turned back towards his men.

* * *

"That was boring," Sirius whined. "Let's go do something fun."

"What are you planning?" Harry asked as he sat in the huge, beautiful kitchen of his home, peering at Sirius over a cup of tea.

"Let's visit an old friend," Sirius said mysteriously.

"You're not talking about Remus, are you?" Harry asked curiously.

"Damn it, Harry!" Sirius yelled, crossing his arms and pouting. "Not fair. You ruin all my fun. You're as bad as Moony."

"Just wait till Ireland," Harry said promisingly, shaking his head.

"I'll hold you to that. But we're keeping hangover potions on our persons." Sirius said.

"Deal," Harry agreed. "Now, where does Remus live?"

"A cottage in the woods. I'll apparate us there, I still remember where it is." Sirius said as he offered his arm to Harry.

* * *

The woods around Remus' house were dark and sad. The only sound was the groaning of the trees as they swayed in the gusty winds.

The cottage itself was small, probably only two rooms. The outside was ramshackle, at best, covered with the growth of the forest. The windows were grimy and one would never guess that it was inhabited, if not for the smoke rising morosely from the chimney.

Sirius marched up to the door, trying the handle.

"It's locked," Sirius pouted.

"Who would've guessed?" Harry asked sarcastically. "Why don't you try, oh, I don't know, knocking?"

"I suppose," Sirius said reluctantly, rapping on the door morosely.

After a moment, when no one answered, Sirius took to beating relentlessly on the door.

When Harry grabbed Sirius wrist out of annoyance, the door creaked open slowly.

The inside of the cabin was shoddy but well-kept. The man standing in the door way received an instant grin from Harry, as well as a loud "Moony!" From Sirius.

"S-Sirius?" The shocked former Professor asked.

"The one and only," Sirius said grandly.

"And Mr. Potter," Remus said, shock deepening.

"Harry, Moony," The emerald eyed boy told him.

"What are you two doing here?" Remus asked, looking at Sirius with wide eyes. "I thought-"

"You thought I was angry at you but I wasn't," Sirius said.  
"Nope," Harry agreed. "And we decided to bring you out to lunch. We have some summer plans we'd like you to be a part of."

"Well, I mean-" Remus tried, still looking disbelieving.

"And we won't take no as an answer," Sirius said decidedly.

"Why don't you both come in while I get dressed?" Remus asked resignedly.

Harry and Sirius followed Remus into the shabby cottage, opening into a sitting room warmed by a fireplace accompanied by two well-filled bookshelves on either side. There was a couch that was faded and worn as well as an armchair, which Harry settled onto while Remus went into the kitchen with Sirius.

Harry assumed the two men were going to make up with each other and Harry pulled a binder from his pocket, enlarging it with a flick of his index finger.

Seamus and Dean had, indeed, gotten back to him with a comprehensive list of players. After researching each option, he found that he probably could buy them onto his team.

He had decided that he would have no one nationality for his team, as that made it hard to get the best players. They had even made up reserve teams, and, after much deliberation, Harry had formed his team. He just needed to get them to sign.

List:

_Seekers: Aidan Lynch/Kenneth Wisp_

_Keeper: Devin Whitethorn/Oliver Wood_

_Beaters: Martin Santini, Doris Warhol/ Joey Jenkins, _

_Chasers: Aladair Maddock, Chance Maximums, Taylor Brighton/Cassie Sutton, Michael Overton, Stormy Blairsville_

He was still trying to find a suitable captain, but he had a feeling Sirius might have a name for him. Harry was also looking up some recruiters who were out of work, as he would want people in junior teams to pick from later.

Unlike any other team, the new Puddlemere would have a junior league in the summer for those who were serious about playing Quidditch after graduation. It would give them an opportunity to train while providing Harry with a pool of suitable players for reserve teams or other opened positions.

The emerald eyed boy had also found the name of a squib who became a physical trainer for sports teams. John Matthews, according to the letter Harry had received from the man, was a huge Quidditch fan but couldn't play for obvious reasons and wasn't allowed to coach or train players due to such prejudices.

Harry had arranged to meet the older man on the following day for lunch at an upscale restaurant in Melbourne, Australia.

"Remus agreed, Harry," Sirius said.

"To what?" Harry asked, curious as to which part his godfather had talked to werewolf into.

"Lunch with us two," Sirius said. "We'll talk him into the rest there."

"Alright," Harry said, standing up and putting the binder back in his pocket.

"Shall we?" Harry asked, holding out a stick that would act as the portkey to his home.

* * *

"Where are we?" Remus asked upon arrival in the entry hall.

"This is North Fox Castle," Harry said. "My home."

"It looks new." Remus observed.

"It is," Harry agreed. "And muggle by design. I added a few things into the wards to make sure the lights would work."

"You can do that?" Remus asked, shocked. "Lily tried for years,"

"Well, mum didn't have the same access that I do." Harry said.

"Access to what?" Remus asked, confused.

"The goblins," Harry informed the man.

"They trained Harry under time compression for a small fee." Sirius said, explaining it to his longtime friend.

"What else have I missed?" Remus asked, eyes widening.

"Well," Harry said thoughtfully. "I bought Puddlemere United."

"You what?" Remus shouted, jaw dropping.

"Puddlemere United is now owned by yours truly." Harry said with a grin.

"That was my reaction too, Moony," Sirius said. "Thought he was kidding. That's when I remembered Harry doesn't have James finesse with pranks."

Remus looked at Harry contemplatively.

"We'll fix him yet," The normally stern professor decided.

Harry grinned as he watched another wall around the carefully guarded werewolf drop.

* * *

"Remus," Harry proposed as dinner came to an end many hours later. "Why don't you just stay with us tonight? We have plenty of room."

"Oh Harry," Remus said, looking around nervously. "I don't think I could, tonight. It's uh, the full moon, you know."

"Oh, I know," Harry said. "I was under the impression that you transform in a small silver cage coated with iron."

"How did you-" Remus began.

"Don't question it. I know everything." Harry said, waving his hand.

"What?" Remus asked, staring at Harry.

"Sirius told me." Harry said after a moment.

Remus turned to Sirius in question, who looked shiftily around the room.

"How did_ he_ know?" Remus asked, disbelieving. "On second thought, how did you know where my cottage was?"

"Yeah, Sirius," Harry said, looking at his godfather waiting for answers. "I thought you said you've been there before? Remus is saying you haven't."

"…" Sirius muttered indistinctly.

Remus and Harry stared at him questioningly.

Sirius cleared his throat.

"I followed him over Christmas break." Sirius said quietly, looking at the ground guiltily and shuffling his feet.

"Sirius!" Remus and Harry shouted. "I knew it was you!" Remus continued loudly.

"And when you left," Sirius said. "I went inside and looked around."

"But I didn't smell you!" Remus objected.

"Scent erasing charms." Sirius admitted.

"And magical signature?" Remus asked.

"And a spell for that too." Sirius said slowly.

"And replacing my magical signature." Remus questioned dangerously.

"I may have used a bit of blood for that." Sirius muttered.

"You have my blood?" Harry and Remus asked at the same time.

"You know that Ritual?"

"Yes and Yes, I am, after all, a Black." Sirius reminded them.

"But my wards!" Remus objected.

Sirius cleared his throat again and glanced at Harry and then darted his eyes back to Remus. "You know damn well you can't keep _me_ out of any wards you set."

"Right," Remus said uncomfortably.

"But back to the topic at hand," Harry interjected loudly. "We have an expanded basement with a few…extra bits of magic in it as well."

"Well, the full moon's in an hour and a half here, which means that the cottage is five hours ahead. I can't go back."

"Right," Harry said. "We'll just go shopping in a few days. Otherwise, a few transfiguration charms should make Sirius robes fit you for a bit."

"I can go back to my cottage tomorrow, Harry," Remus said lightly.

"You could." Harry agreed. "But you won't. You're staying with us this summer."

"Since when?" Remus asked. "And besides, I can't impose like that."

"Yes, you can." Sirius said. "And you will. You've been barred exit from the house until you agree."

"Can you do that?" Remus asked disbelievingly.

"Yes." Harry said simply.

"Oh fine," Remus said. "But I will need to get some robes from the cottage."

"Alright, Remus, later," Harry said, waving his hand. For now, I'll show you the basement.

* * *

Harry showed Sirius and Remus into the basement, Sirius in dog form.

The basement now looked like a forest. It was small, about the size of a football field, but the trees looked huge and real.

"Have a good night, boys," Harry said. "You'll be locked in until seven in the morning."

Remus nodded gratefully, pulling off his robes.

"Thank you, Harry," Remus said, smiling sadly.

"That's what family's for, Moony," Harry said, patting Sirius on the head and locking the door.

* * *

The following morning, Harry woke to Sirius patronus, a large shaggy dog.

"Remus has a few deep gashes," He heard.

Harry jumped out of bed and flew downstairs to the room he could sense the two men in.

Remus had his shirt off and was lying on the muggle doctor's bed, made of stiff light beige leather.

"Morning, Remus," Harry said. "How bad is it?"

"I think Sirius can handle it, pup," Remus said. "Not bad enough for the hospital, of course."

"Do you really want Sirius fiddling around with your internal organs and arteries?" Harry asked rhetorically. "No, you don't."

"Fair enough, Mediwizard Potter." Remus acquiesced with a pained grin.

Harry rolled back the sleeves to his pajama top and concentrated his magic on Remus' body. Harry quickly waved his wand over Remus's chest, where a thin but long scratch ran from his collarbone to the opposite armpit. The scratch, which had been slowly oozing blood, sealed up and smoothed over, the skin vibrating with the magic.

Harry then prodded a deep gash gently, knitting it together inside with one spell and sterilizing it. He then sealed the skin up into a slightly raised silvery scar, which he healed with a silent ooze of grey magic.

A few more gashes were cleared up the same way and Harry backed away from Remus, who looked more relaxed in the absence of pain, and casting cleaning and sterilizing charms to get rid of the blood.

"Didn't know you were that good, pup," Remus said.

"Normally it's just rough but efficient patchwork. Hurts a bit more too, but I studied a few things in depth." Harry told the man with a grin.

"Nice one, pup," Sirius said, ruffling the raven headed boys hair with a grin.

"Showers then breakfast?" Harry suggested, ducking out from under Sirius' hand.

"Deal," Sirius agreed.

* * *

On the third day of Remus being in North Fox Castle, Sirius was growing restless.

"Harry," The man whined. "Can't we go do something fun?"

"Sirius, we have to stay here for at least two more weeks, until the stadium is finished."

"Well, we need to meet Seamus soon, why not go now and come back when the stadium is finished? Ireland isn't that far for an owl, you know. And we can leave the builders our floo address, I'm sure we can get one."

"In Ireland? Get our own floo access?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We'll buy a house." Sirius said flippantly.

"You can't just do that." Remus said, shaking his head.

"I'll get right on it." Harry said.

"Do that thing you did with that thing for Seamus and Dean." Sirius demanded, running off to pack.

Harry just sighed and told Remus that he might as well start packing too.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Sirius asked excitedly as he came down the stairs with his trunk. Harry too had his trunk next to him.

He sat in a chair in a receiving room looking at Sirius and shaking his head.

"I purchased a large property in Ireland, fifteen minutes from downtown Dublin. There are over thirty acres of manicured gardens, three houses, two of which have two smaller cottages near." Harry said.

"Damn, pup!" Sirius said, barking with laughter. "What do we need a house that big for?"

"Well, go big or go home. And it's always good o have multiple places to fall back on. The goblins have already warded it and it's completely safe now."

Remus was struck speechless as he carried his old school trunk which was rather beat up.

"We'll get settled and go shopping in Dublin. Completely new wardrobes for us all." Harry said excitedly.

"Harry-" Remus began embarrassedly.

"Remus, you don't get to say a word. Everything on this vacation is on me." Harry said. "Please, Remus. You know mum and dad would have told you the same thing. Shut up and take my money!"

Sirius laughed even louder than he had been before and grabbed Remus by the hand, pulling him closer to Harry.

Harry made sure he was grasping both Sirius and Remus and that they both had their trunks.

"Activate Ashtown Lodge." Harry said and was swept away by a hook in his navel, his Potter Lordship ring glowing bright blue.

* * *

Ashtown Lodge was a beautiful grey stone house with a classic, imposing view offset by ivy curling tastefully on the home's facade.

The inside opened into a fifteen-foot wide entry hall dominated by a large shiny black staircase. The cheery yellow walls and black floors gave the room a modern and airy feels.

The rest of the house was much the same, light a cheery. Skylights in the kitchen and living room were at a tilted angle, spreading sun through the entire room.

"The floo's set up and I sent a letter with Hedwig to the construction crew before we left." Harry said as he stepped into the living room and plopped down on the white couch.

"And-" Sirius began.

"I sent a letter to Seamus and I'm waiting on his reply."

"Then let's go for a swim!" Sirius said.

"In the indoor pool, I assume?" Harry asked.

"Yes, yes," Sirius said.

"You game, Remus?" Harry asked, smiling at the man he was coming to view as a second godfather.

"Sure, pup," Remus said. "But-"

"And you can borrow my trunks!" Sirius said with a grin.

* * *

At dinner, Harry received a letter from Seamus asking to meet him for a party at nine the following night at an address in the city.

"What do you think?" Harry asked Sirius and Remus.

"I think it's a great idea!" Sirius said. "No one can party like the Irish!"

"Remus?" Harry asked.

Remus was staring him down with a raised eyebrow but looked to be considering very carefully.

"Alright," The werewolf said. "But-"

"No buts," Sirius said with a tone of finality. "You're going and you're getting smashed."

"Sirius, that's highly irresponsible and you know it," Remus scolded lightly. "Especially with Harry being who he is."

"Remus, we're bringing hangover potions and sobering potions in case anything goes wrong. I am also a fully trained wizard capable of burning up the alcohol in my blood with magic alone."

"You can do that?" Sirius asked, incredulous.

"Yep," Harry confirmed. "Can't help with hangovers though."

"That's a shame," Sirius said on a side note. "But Remus, don't spoil fun."

"Fine," Remus said, smiling internally.

The werewolf recognized the gleam in the emerald eyes of his best friends son. It was the same look the boy's father got when he was sure about something. It was the same look his mother got when she was forcing you to do what she wanted.

* * *

"Is this the place?" Sirius asked as he stepped out of the cab after Remus and Harry.

"Fitzgerald Liquor store." Harry read the sign. "Red door on the right."

They all looked to their right and saw the faded pink door that could have been red at one point before shrugging and opening it.

They were hit in the face by blasting loud music and steep stairs leading up to the land of flashing lights.

Harry, Remus, and Sirius climbed the stairs carefully. The room in front of them was filled with loud music, smoke, and the strong smell of alcohol.

Sirius was easily distracted by the throng of dancing women that look to be in their early twenties dancing in a corner.

Harry wandered towards the kitchen bar area, looking for his Irish friend.

"I'm looking for Seamus!" Harry said loudly to a group of guys playing beer pong.

The kitchen was large and filled with girls on counters and guys pouring shots.

"Space expansion charms," Harry thought to himself.

"Ay!" Six different guys called. "I'm Seamus."

"Shit." Harry said loudly as Remus snickered behind his hand.

"Harry, mate," Harry spun around when he heard a familiar Irish voice.

"Hey, Seamus!" Harry exclaimed, giving Seamus a brotherly shoulder clap.

"Whose place is this?" Harry asked over the music.

"One of my cousins boyfriends lives up here. His uncle runs the shop below." Seamus told him, slurring slightly. "Grab a few shots, have some fun, make some friends."

* * *

At one in the morning, Remus was thoroughly trashed and was helping Sirius prank young women's panties right off of one.

A buxom blonde sitting in his lap in a mini skirt occupied Harry. She was the first one Remus and Sirius tried to prank, and it didn't work on her.

"I'm not wearing any underwear," She had whispered sultrily into his ear.

Harry had managed to stay comfortably drunk and had no issue sliding into a small sitting room to which he heavily applied locking charms.

* * *

When the morning broke, Harry sat up slowly before immediately summoning a hangover potion. He swallowed it without a grimace, as it was nothing compared to the taste left in his mouth from last nights drinking.

He looked over to the other side of the transfigured bed. The blonde was snuggled completely under the blanket.

She stretched out, at Harry's prodding, and woke with a lecherous grin dampened quickly by her hangover.

Harry summoned another potion for her before leaving the room with a suggestive wink.

* * *

Sirius and Remus quickly took their potions from their individual positions on the kitchen counter and living room floor before attempting to rise.

"Come on," Harry said. "Let's find Seamus, people will be waking soon."

Seamus was easy located with his head on the bottom on the open fridge.

Harry nudged him awake and handed him their last potion.

"Mornin," Seamus said with a grin.

"Good afternoon," Remus corrected with a look at his watch.

"Fun night, eh Potter?" Seamus asked, eyeing a spot on Harry's neck.

"What?" Harry asked, hand slamming onto his neck.

"Nice hickies," Seamus said teasingly.

Harry shot healing magic unnoticed through his hands to his entire neck, healing an blemishes.

"What're you talking about?" Harry asked, removing his hand.

"Your-" Seamus stopped. "Smooth, Potter.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Harry denied swiftly.

"Pup," Sirius asked with gleaming eyes and a wicked smirk. "Something you want to tell me?"

"No, Sirius," Harry said. "Nothing at all."

"You smell a little off, today, Harry," Remus said with a relaxed, teasing smile. "What's that flowery scent?"

"Shut up, Remus, Sirius," Harry said, blushing scarlet.

"Why's your face all red, pup?" Sirius asked knowingly.

"Well," Harry said loudly. "It's time for us to head out."

Sirius and Remus gave him matching looks that meant there would be a long talk later.

Harry just ignored them both and turned back to Seamus.

"Mate," Harry said. "That was great, thank you for inviting us."

"Truly, kid." Sirius said, bumping Seamus' shoulder good-naturedly.

"Any time mate," Seamus said. "You two kept the crown entertained."

Sirius and Remus both laughed lightly and smiled with nostalgia.

"And Harry kept himself entertained." Seamus said jokingly.

Harry flushed red again while Sirius and Remus laughed harder. Harry just scowled at them and started heading for the door.

"See you later, Harry," Seamus said, waving. "There's another party tomorrow night, if you'd like to come."

Harry glanced at Remus, who shrugged, and Sirius, who smirked.

"That's a yes, then," Harry said.

"Where and what time?" Remus asked practically before they left.

"O'Malley's Pub and Brewery." Seamus said. "Party starts at 10 o'clock."

"See you then!" Harry said with a grin and a wave as Sirius and Remus followed him down the stairs, where they all apparated instead of opening the door.

* * *

That night was quite in the Dublin home.

Remus and Sirius spent a few hours alone in one of the sitting rooms and Harry worked on eliminating summer homework.

Despite being well beyond the material level, it was still tedious and time-consuming to write numerous essays of extensive length.

Harry also received a letter from a man Sirius had contacted him with.

His name was Leroy Clyde, and he was a forty-year-old man who had coached for the Hollyhead Harpies before the war.

Leroy had mentioned that he wanted to start coaching again and that he had three other coaches of similar age that wanted to apply as well.

Adam Johnston, Richard Somers, and Clifton Mayfield were interesting prospects. If Harry was to be completely honest with himself, he wanted all four of them.

A head coach, deputy coach, and an assistant coach for the reserves would be a good way to train them up quick. And the juniors would need a coach to themselves, of course.

Each of their resumes was nothing less than impressive, if not slightly intimidating. These men had been cycled through many teams, and, if what digging he had done was anything to go by, highly sought after.

But they'd been out of the game for so long, it was hard to work them back in. Harry could do that.

He'd written back hastily to each of them, asking if they'd like to meet with him and the physical trainer at lunch at two o'clock, in the restaurant in Melbourne.

* * *

Come 1:30, Harry was dressed in a fine muggle suit, hair styled elegantly back. His eyes were bright and mature and the leather binder he held in his hands screamed business.

"Remus, Sirius," Harry said to each man as he traveled to the front steps, where it was considered polite to apparate.

"Hey Harry," Sirius said cheerfully as he beat Remus at wizards hangman.

"Sirius! No fair!" Remus cried as Harry hung his little character. Harry could hear the little man choke and the neck crack theatrically, making him cringe.

"It is too fair!" Sirius protested.

"It is not! The word has to be in the English dictionary." Remus pointed out.

"Since when?" Sirius cried. "And babushka is in the dictionary!"

"Not the English one," Remus pointed out wryly.

"Alright," Harry said, interrupting them before they could begin to bicker.

"Yes?" Sirius asked innocently.

"I've got a meeting in half an hour in Melbourne." Harry told the two men. "I should be back in a few hours, hopefully."

"Alright," Remus said. "See you when you get back."

* * *

Harry apparated into the surprisingly bright back alley of the Australian restaurant. It still smelt heavily of trash, but it wasn't dark.

He swiftly walked to the front of the alley and around to the front of the building.

A fine steak house, Harry figured it was as good a meeting place as any.

"High my name is Meghan, would you like to sit in smoking or non?" A perky brunette waitress in black slacks and a black button up asked.

"I have a private room reserved under the name Puddlemere." Harry told her.

She checked the list on her podium and smiled, looking slightly disappointed.

"Well, sir," She said politely. "Please follow me."

Harry was led to the back of the restaurant, into a quieter and dimmer section before being led into a large room with a good sized round table suitable for six or seven people.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" She asked.

"No, thank you. I will wait for my party, thank you." Harry said.

* * *

**Alright, I know I left off at an inopportune part, and this chapter might be a bit of fluff, but I'm getting back into the swing of this story, so bear with me.**

**I have gotten so many positive responses that I don't even know what to do with myself. **

**For the past couple of weeks, I have been lucky to get three emails about alerts a weeks, seeing as it had been so long since I posted. **

**Yet, suddenly, in the past two days, I have been hit with a flood of alerts and I just can't thank you all enough. **

**I would like to know what brought them all on of course. Which rings me to another topic. This story is now in a few communities. I didn't know this until I looked my story up but I can't thank you enough. **


	8. Relaxation

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Warning: Dumbledore bashing, Weasley bashing, Hermione bashing, wealthy Harry, super Harry, goblin intervention, time interference, mature Harry, mature language, mature subject content.**

**Time Period: Current, being 2012, moving into 2013. **

**Hogwarts Year: Third year**

**Chapter Notes: Well, this is the eighth chapter of Profitable Ventures, and hopefully the business side of things picks up quickly. I look forward to hearing everything you all have to say, but please be respectful of the time and effort I have put into the story. **

**I have been truly appreciative of all of the feedback, and I would like to make a chapter dedication here. Ubetiburn has pointed out many things that I had overlooked, and made me think much more clearly on some of the things Harry needs to be doing. **

**I have one more thing to address, as I received an anonymous review with a very important question in it. Harry is 13. Why is he sleeping around? Of course, that's not verbatim, but the point remains. Harry is, by all accounts, mentally 16. He matured with the goblins in time training and his brain developed as well as his body. He looks much older than the thirteen he is, due to training and potions meant for that purpose. Hopefully, that soothes morals because I know mine aren't that twisted.**

**Please enjoy the chapter!**

…

John Matthews, a young man at 33 years of age, had sandy blonde hair, an impressive physique, and lightly tanned skin. With an angular jaw and knowledgeable eyes, Harry was sure he could get along with the man who a red headed waitress led into the room.

Harry stood, meeting John with a firm handshake.

"Harry Potter," Harry said in introduction.

"John Matthews," John said with an Australian accent. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."

"Of course, Mr. Matthews," Harry said with a respectful nod. "I am glad to be in contact with someone with such impressive qualifications."

"Please, sit," Harry said, gesturing to the table and sitting while John did the same next to him.

"Now," Harry continued. "We're still waiting for four coaches who have contacted me, but I would like to ask you a few questions."

"Please, continue, Mr. Potter," John said.

"Harry, please,"

"Then call me John," The man offered.

"So, what makes you want to work as a physical trainer for Puddlemere United?" Harry asked.

"As you know, I'm a squib that was raised in the magical world. However, I maintained a muggle education and attended university to attain a degree in Athletic training." John began. "I grew up watching my older brother play Quidditch and my father was a chaser for the Australian National team."

"And what made you lean towards athletic training in the muggle side?" Harry continued.

"I considered medicine," John revealed. "But wouldn't have been able to practice in the magical world, for obvious reasons. The next best thing was sports medicine, which involves muscle building and maintenance. I have also studied potions and am able to prescribe them with efficiency, enough to supplement what muggle athletic training will not."

"I see," Harry said, jotting a few things down in his notebook. "What can you offer that a wizard trainer cannot? And please don't take offence, I simply need to know what is different between you and whoever the other teams have."

"The problem with athletic trainers who are wizards is that there's no standardized testing or way to measure capability. They study under a regular healer for a short period of time, during which they are only there for the physical therapy with long-term patients who needed help building up muscle mass, which potions couldn't."

"Right," Harry said, still noting things while respectfully meeting John's eyes. The way in which he held himself made it quite clear just who was in charge. "What sorts of training would you use for Quidditch players?"

"Quidditch players need to be well-rounded. Their legs are used as much as other sports, but they will be built up with running or jogging as much as possible. The muscles of the arms and the core body muscles are the most important. That means the abdominals and the back muscles as well as the triceps and biceps."

Harry finished making his finals notes just as four men walked in.

"Hello," One said, English accent clear. "I'm Leroy Clyde."

He was a tall man who looked like he was in his late thirties or early forties. With dark brown hair and a few streaks of grey, his tidy goatee and strong face made it clear just why his brown eyes looks so knowledgeable.

"Adam Johnston," a blonde man said. He was 5'11 and had blue eyes as well as a strong English accent.

"I'm Richard Somers," A grey-haired man announced. His American accent was what Harry expected, and he sounded like he might have been from Boston.

"Nice to meet you, Clifton Mayfield," A man with light brown Hair that brushed the top of his shoulders said. He spoke with a light French accent, which surprised Harry slightly. The man had been in Britain for many years, as his resume didn't indicate a French background.

"Thank you for meeting with us today, sir," Leroy Clyde said as he reached to shake John's hand. "Little younger than I expected,"

"John Matthews," John introduced with a friendly grin and laughing eyes. "But I believe you're for Harry. He's the team owner. I'm here for an interview about the trainer position."

All four of the new arrivals looked shocked but Harry gestured for them to have a seat.

"I'm glad you were able to make it on such short notice, gentleman," Harry began in a strong tone, nodding to each of them. "My name is Harry Potter and I am the new Puddlemere team owner."

"Mr. Potter," Richard began, still respectful. "I was not aware that you owned Puddlemere."

"A rather new arrangement, I assure you." Harry said with a small smile.

"A dream come true for a little boy, I'm sure," Clifton murmured rudely in his native tongue.

"Monsieur Mayfield," Harry began in French with a loud voice that demanded respect. "I will excuse your rudeness on behalf of shock, but if you persist in such behaviors I will dismiss you from these chambers immediately."

"My apologies," Clifton said, even more shocked.

Harry glared for a moment before beginning to speak again. "Now, I need some of the best people for this team, as I am planning to bring Quidditch in a new direction. I have seen all of your resumes and have found myself quite impressed with all of you."

Each of the men nodded their heads in acceptance of the praise, even if they looked calculating and skeptical.

"Will any of you have problems with modernizing the Quidditch industry? I'm building new facilities, and new stadium similar to size as those for the World Cup. I want to start summer programs and new business ventures. Already, I've hired a new merchandise manufacturing company."

"You cancelled the contracts with Wizard Media?" Adam asked, eyes widening.

"And I hired Magic Toys. They've yet to produce anything yet, as I don't have player contracts signed."

"But which of us will coach?" Leroy asked, to which the others looked immensely interested.

"I'd like to have all of you coaching." Harry reveled to even wider eyes. "One coach for the main team, another for the reserves, and then one more for the junior teams. Then there'd be the Head Coach who coordinates and coaches at games."

"What about player rosters?" Richard asked.

"I've already sent them some correspondence and I'm awaiting responses. So far, I have five players that are for sure. All I have to do is meet them in person for the contract signing."

"Do you have the roster?" Clifton asked.

"I do," Harry agreed, handing out a pamphlet of parchments to each of the five men.

"This is the expected player roster. I have taken into account things like personality clashes, current team's willingness to let go, pay rates on scales of experience and danger, etcetera, etcetera."

Each man browsed the list with raised eyebrows, which climbed slowly into their hair lines as their eyes moved further down the page.

"I see you've kept Oliver Wood," Leroy said. "Any reason why?"

"His reputation speaks for him. I've also seen him as a Captain, and I must admit to being impressed."

"You went to school with him and you count that as good enough?" Richard asked.

"Yes," Harry said simply. "I will not defend my actions to you. At this point, Mr. Matthews is the only one I'd consider as an advisor. The rest of you seem to have some issues with my authority, which, I assure you, will be rectified before we even begin to negotiate contracts. Do I make myself clear?"

Each of the four men nodded their heads while John tried to control his smile.

"I have paid for this team out of pocket. No loans, no leans, nothing. I have a whole new complex being built on one of my personal properties." Harry began, glaring at the two most blatant offenders. "I find my roster to be quite acceptable, and my decisions are final."

Clifton Mayfield still looked mildly cross.

"Monsieur Mayfield," Harry said in French. "Do I need to put what I just said into your native tongue? You don't seem to understand what I am saying. I will not tolerate disrespect on your part."

"And how do you expect me to behave?" The man asked loudly. "A boy twenty years my junior-"

"A man well above your station and power level sits before you, willing to interview you for a job which, at this point, I don't feel you deserve." Harry interjected. "You will not speak to me out of turn, with such disrespect on your tongue, Monsieur Mayfield."

Clifton glared stormily at Harry for a moment before clearing his expression.

"I do apologize, Mr. Potter," He said coldly, clearly insincere.

"Mr. Mayfield," Harry said, irritation clear. "You are dismissed from the room, your services as a Puddlemere coach will not be necessary."

Clifton pushed back his chair silently, rising stiffly and heading towards the door.

"Lovely," Harry said, relaxing back in his chair. "I expect no one else has any complaints, or have I sufficiently expressed my displeasure with being treated disrespectfully?"

"I think we're good," John said, looking at the other three men.

"Good," Harry said after receiving nods. "Most of my questions for you have been answered by references and by your resumes themselves. We'll first need to negotiate contracts for each of you established off days, who will take which position, and anyone who knows where to find a replacement for Mayfield."

"Excuse me, sir," A blonde waitress said as she stepped into the room. "Would you like to make a drink order?"

"Of course," Harry said. "An ice water is fine, please. Gentlemen?"

The four remaining men ordered their drinks, turning back to Harry as the waitress left the room.

"I have a second cousin who's looking to coach. He coached the school team for Salem in America," John began after a moment's pause.

"Good, good," Harry said. "How soon can he get here?"

John smirked, reaching into his pocket.

"Kevin?" He said into a small silver device Harry instantly recognized as a phone.

"…"

"Yeah, hey," John said. "I might have the job opportunity of the century for you."

"…"

"Ever heard of Puddlemere?"

"…"

"They're under new management," John said. "And they're looking for a coach."

"…"

"New owner's making a junior league," John told the eager man on the other end. "How soon can you meet him?"

"…"

"No, right now is perfect."

"…"

"Alright," John said. "I'll text you the address. Just ask for the private room for Puddlemere."

"…"

"See you when you get here," John said, snapping the phone shut.

"Here are your drinks, sirs," the same waitress said as she sat them onto the table in front of each man.

"May I take your orders now?" The waitress asked.

"We're waiting on one more," Harry told her.

"Alright," Harry began once she left. "First, I'd like to delegate coaching position. I'm going to assume we have the junior coach position filled. All that's left is the head coach position, main team, and reserve team positions."

"I believe I would do best with the reserves," Adam Johnston said, swiping his blonde hair out of his eye.

"And I'd like to coach the lead team," Richard Somers said.

"Mr. Clyde," Harry said to the oldest man. "That leaves you with the head coach position. Is this acceptable?"

"Very much so, Mr. Potter," Leroy said.

"Might as well be on first name basis, no?" Harry asked rhetorically as he pulled out contracts he had already written.

"Hey, Johnny," A man of his late twenties said as the waitress lead him into the room. He was, however, stopped short by the amount of professionally dressed men.

He had messy blonde hair and green eyes, matched by tanned skin and an athletic build. Wearing light, torn blue jeans and a red T-shirt, he must have felt a little dressed down.

"Hello," Harry said, grinning in a friendly manner. He liked this man already.

"Hi," He said, running his hand through his hair. "I'm Kevin Matthews."

"Nice to make your acquaintance," Harry said, still grinning. "Harry Potter. To my left is Richard Somers, Leroy Clyde, and Adam Johnston."

"You didn't tell me to dress up!" Kevin hissed at John.

"It's a job interview," John said, chuckling with mirth. "I thought it was self-explanatory."

"You're here!" His cousin shot back. "I didn't think it'd be professional."

"No worries, Mr. Matthews." Harry said. "I'm sure none of us mind."

"May I take your orders, gentlemen?" The waitress asked politely.

After taking a few minutes to get their orders, she left and Harry began to talk to Kevin.

"How long were you at Salem as a coach?"

"I coached for six years, since I was 21." Kevin told him.

"And you're still looking to pursue coaching, I take it?"

"Yes," Kevin agreed. "There just haven't been many opportunities in America, or anywhere else, really."

"You wouldn't have happened to bring a resume, would you have?" Harry asked.

"I did think that far ahead," Kevin agreed, handing him a file.

Harry pursued it for a moment while Kevin and John exchanged whispered insults.

"Would you be willing to accept a coaching position for the junior league of the Puddlemere team?"

"I-I-" Kevin looked stunned. "I come in wearing jeans and a T-shirt but you're still willing to give me a job?"

"You might fit in with the kids you're working with," Harry said with a shrug, loosening up a bit. "Of course, you will have to do a bit of recruiting at the start."

"I can do that," Kevin said with a happy smile.

"I will be hiring recruiters later, of course," Harry said. "But at this moment they're not exactly necessary."

"Of course," Kevin said. "Where do I sign?"

…

Harry, John, Kevin, Richard, Leroy, and Adam spent the next twenty minutes going over individual contracts. They each lasted for two years and were more than generous in wages and in benefits, which included a bonus for every game won.

"Alright, gentlemen," Harry said, shaking the hand of each man in turn. "Thank you for having lunch with me today; it's an honor to have you employed in my service. Coaches, I'll make sure that I contact you when I meet the team members."

They each chorused their goodbyes, leaving the steak house while Harry footed the bill with a large tip for the attending waitress.

With a tired sigh, he apparated from the back alley back to the Ireland house.

…

"You look exhausted, cub," Remus said when Harry walked into the sitting room.

"You have no idea," Harry said, throwing himself onto the open couch.

"Tough meeting?" Sirius asked with a knowing grin.

"Most of the men were great, and they've all signed contracts. But there was one Frenchman who was an absolute arse."

"But you hired him anyways?" Remus asked, sounding slightly concerned.

"Oh no, I dismissed him. He tried insinuating that he was my better and I dismissed him."

"Good," Sirius said. "Remus and I were planning on going to lunch, want to come?"

"I think I'd rather take a nap, Padfoot."

"Alright, cub," Remus said, standing. "We'll see you when we get back."

…

When Harry woke up, it was eight o'clock and Sirius and Remus were standing in front of him.

"Party at 10." Sirius said. "Start getting dressed, I want to grab a keg beforehand."

"Alright," Harry said, rubbing his eyes. "I think I'll take a shower."

"Yeah, me too," Remus said. "And then we'll head out."

…

The pub Seamus told them to go to was large and loud the party already started when they arrived.

"Hey, mate," Seamus yelled when he saw Harry. "Brought a keg, Sirius?"

"Damn straight, mate," Sirius yelled. "Ready to party?"

…

The next morning, Harry woke up in his own bed with a throbbing hangover he quickly remedied with a potion on his bedside table.

"Thank Merlin for the portkey," Harry grumbled to himself as he rolled out of bed and into the shower.

…

The next three days were spent in open warfare. Harry and Remus woke Sirius with a large bucket of cold water and goldfish, which conveniently landed in his mouth.

Harry, at one point, had a tentacle for a nose, forcing him to breath out of his mouth with a long and limp tongue.

Sirius spent twelve hours as a particularly ugly girl with the face of a unique species of dog: the pug.

Remus was forced to sleep on the floor, as his pillow and sheet would mummify him and then beat him if he slept with them.

After that, Sirius couldn't eat anything without it smacking him in the face. Liquids would even form themselves into hand shapes and smack him with a hard splashing effect.

Numerous other pranks and tricks were played throughout the house before it was called to an end when Dobby joined in.

As it turns out, no one enjoys wearing clothing that slowly constricts throughout the day, or through the night.

Soon, though, Harry found his business calling.

He had already met with the five players who agreed to play for Puddlemere, two of which were on the reserve team.

His lunch with Oliver had gone exceedingly well. They had met in a muggle restaurant in London and spent most of the meeting talking about old times.

"All right Potter," Oliver had said. "Might as well get around to this contract business."

"I'd like to have you take the captaincy." Harry said after another moments thought, pulling some parchments from his ever-present leather binder.

"Are you serious?" Oliver had asked excitedly. "I mean, are you sure? Normally it takes a few years to even get co-captain!"

"I'm more than aware, but I've seen you captain before and with two coaches to work with, they should keep your mania at bay,"

"Bugger off, Potter," Wood retorted good-naturedly.

"But I am serious, Oliver," Harry said. "This is my team and I've already had the coaches questioning my decision about you. It isn't favoritism, and don't let anyone tell you it is. I like how you run things and there's only a few things I'd like to change."

"Alright, let em' fly," Oliver said, containing an excited grin.

"I'd like you to put together a playbook. Every tactic you plan on using, or practicing. Whatever you can come up with, defenses against specific team. This is a job now, not a game. Not that you ever really acted like it was."

"Gotcha, what else?"

"You've got your own pitch. I plan to have talked to each member of the main and reserve team by the time this is all over. That means thirteen players under you; feel free to choose your own co-captain. I'm not assigning you one."

"Alright," Oliver said. "Where do I sign?"

Harry and Oliver stopped being as friendly, working on hammering out a pay scale that worked for the both of them.

Overall, those five meetings turned out good.

By the next Saturday, Harry had met with each member of the main and reserve team and, in some cases, their lawyers. He set Oliver loose on them and, from what he understood, they were being worked to the bone getting ready for the next game, which wasn't a long ways off.

The training complex wasn't completely finished, only the main pitch and the actual training facilities.

John and Oliver had worked out a schedule and were adhering strictly to it. The players weren't out of shape in the slightest, so Oliver was able to work them and John could keep them fit.

…

"I'm exhausted," Harry said to Sirius Friday night after his last meeting with the starting seeker.

"You've been running all over the world, of course you are." Remus said as he handed Harry a butterbeer.

"Why don't we go somewhere new tomorrow?" Sirius suggested.

"Where were you thinking?" Harry asked, curious.

"Why not Egypt?"

"That actually doesn't sound too bad," Harry said thoughtfully.

"There's some pyramids to visit," Remus said.

"Oh?" Harry asked, remembering the Weasley's trip to Egypt.

…

Sirius, Remus, and Harry found a hotel in Egypt near the pyramids that they talked about and spent a two weeks running around in the sun.

Harry used some glamour's while they were there, though they seemed useless in retrospect.

He took frequent trips back to the Puddlemere facilities, which were completed and furnished by an outside company.

Harry was more than pleased by the progress of his team, though he didn't interact with them all that much.

Their first match was a week away, and Harry would be attending in disguise with Remus and Sirius.

Beyond that, Egypt was a blur of fun and laughs. Sirius stocked up on some Egyptian liquors and brews, while Remus convinced Harry to pick up many rare books for his collection.

He was most interested in a book on ancient runes and a book that the vendor had sold to him cheap simply because he couldn't read it.

The runes it was written in were squiggly, to put it lightly. They seemed to have a life of their own and it took Harry seconds to recognize the language as parseltongue.

"What a find," He thought to himself.

"Ready to head back home, kiddo?" Sirius asked his godson as he stepped from the hotel bathroom.

"Absolutely," Harry said. "I think I've collected enough sand in places where there shouldn't be sand."

"Gotcha," Sirius said. "Let me grab Remus, think you can pack everything up?"

"Sure," Harry said, waving his hand languidly towards the door. "See you in twenty?"

…

A week later, after Sirius had dragged him to a post-Quidditch game party to celebrate his team's first win, Harry had a meeting with Ragnok, his financial advisor.

They made new investments, sold stock that looked like it was on a downward turn, and reviewed properties.

Harry spent more time studying then Sirius would like, but Remus was encouraging and kept Sirius off of his back.

The parseltongue book was a mix of wards and runes, though they were all runic based. He set one up on his trunk, though he watered it down some. It would cut into the skin of the arms and hands, rather than taking off the appendages completely.

Sirius was getting restless, so they decided to take a few days and visit the tropics.

Sirius found himself a trio of women, surprisingly enough, and spent two of the best nights of his life in a little island cabana.

Remus was pulled aside by a small spitfire of a woman who spoke the native language and recognized Remus as a werewolf. The man blushed red every time someone mentioned the woman, but one of her remedies must have had helped because when they returned back to North Fox Castle for Remus' monthly transformation, he barely showed any of the normal signs of the full moon beforehand.

Harry met twin American blondes who enjoyed spending their tropical vacation with the messy-haired teen.

When the three men went back to Northfox Castle, they were tanned, relaxed, and ready for the remainder of their summer vacation.

…

**Well, I know it's been a long time since I've updated, and I'm sad to say I've kinda lost my vision with this story. I might go through and rewrite it, but that's not likely. I just need some time to figure out where I want to take this, since I'm not entirely sure. All of the support has been wonderful, and I can't begin to thank everyone enough. **

**I'm not going so far as to say I'm abandoning this story, or putting it on hiatus. I just need to find a new direction to take it. **

**Please leave me any thoughts and questions in a review. However, do not leave me any anonymous reviews with questions. It irritates me when people add a whole page of responses at the beginning or end of a chapter to address reviewers, I won't be doing the same unless I feel that it needs to be addressed. Or if I feel that certain levels of ignorance must be put on display. **


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